


Praxus Arc: Undercover

by wicked3659



Series: Of Secrets and Sparklings [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Secrets, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: Prowl is a high ranking enforcer in Praxus handling the case of a growing terrorist organisation within his city.Jazz is Prime's executive officer and head of special operations in Iacon Command.Neither expected to meet under such circumstances but the meeting changes their lives in ways they could not have anticipated.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Of Secrets and Sparklings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753084
Comments: 75
Kudos: 151





	1. Investigations and Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles
> 
> There are time jumps throughout this first arc, I've tried to make them as clear as possible so hopefully they aren't too confusing. 
> 
> Written in response to a bunny posted on the P/J discord. I am still trying to find my writing rhythm again so be kind :D

It all started with a murder. Well, several murders in fact. A terrorist ring was operating in Praxus, destroying or capturing any trade transports destined for Iacon. Every precinct in the city was working the case under his command. Coordinating a city-wide investigation and subsequent raids was entrusted to its highest ranking detective. If any mech could catch and put away the criminals responsible for the bombings, murders and grand larceny, Detective Chief Inspector Prowl could. 

Personally, he loathed such cases. The Prime of Iacon was unhappy therefore the Lord Commandant of Praxus was equally unhappy. As a result, regional city officials were constantly venting in Prowl’s audio for results to send back to Iacon and to Prime. It had been a vorn since the group, Diode had made themselves known and only a few arrests had been made. However, none would talk and give up their accomplices. Each arrest only added to their list of suspects and while whittling down a terrorist groups’ numbers was a good thing, it wasn’t the sweeping success Prowl’s superiors were looking for. The group was good, very good and had remained one step ahead of Prowl’s investigative team. He had been forced to change tactics, use undercover officers. As they started reporting back, patterns began to emerge and the evidence started to lead to whom Prowl believed was the source of the group's control and power. The group's leader or at least one of them. 

Prowl had been so certain he had gotten his mech. However, things just didn’t add up. Evidence vanished before it even left the scene. He even suspected the mech had sympathetic admirers in the enforcers themselves helping him, something which Prowl would not tolerate. He began to push back, ensure evidence was entrusted only to certain enforcers he trusted implicitly, arrive at scenes to work them himself, cutting off this criminal's attempts to obstruct his investigation. The mech was good but he would soon come to realise that Prowl was better. 

****

The silver mech sauntered into the large cafe with a smile, unfazed by the wary looks the Praxian locals threw him. This was a well-known police establishment but he knew they couldn’t touch him, not without the evidence he was very aware they were sorely lacking. Scanning the room, his indigo visor glinted when he found who he was looking for. “Same place every cycle huh?” 

“That’s right, boss,” a formidable looking mech on his right answered with a smirk. “He’s that chief of police who’s been giving our mechs a hard time.”

“Yeah, he's the one that was on the news stream. He's become a pain in the aft for your operations, Boss. You get him, they’ll never be able to stop us,” the mech on his left added, flicking his large sensor panels.

The silver mech leant into the large mech on his left and handed him a credit chit, “You two go grab yourselves a drink or two, you’re off duty.”

“Boss, you’re sure? The law mech is gunning for you, we should remove him quiet like, make him come with us and--”

“--And what? Have you looked around?” sharp claws gestured to the room. “It’s full of those ramrods, his slaggin’ enforcers, you think you’ll be able to just walk out of here with their Chief of Police?” At the resounding silence, the silver mech smirked and clapped his companion on the shoulder. “Didn’t think so, now go, I’ve got a date,” he added ominously, flexing his sharp-clawed hands. “Don’t wait up mechs.” 

Ignoring his companions’ dark chuckles and murmurs of assent, he walked purposefully over to the black and white sitting alone at the back with a datapad in his hand. He looked exactly as he had on the news stream, serious, focused, with a well maintained detailing on his polished matte chassis and noticeable sensor panels. Somehow reading made his faceplates seem less stern than they had when he’d been addressing the media, younger even. The detective was easy on the optics, a fact that was filed away in his processor with the intention of following up on later. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure his goons had left, he slid into the seat opposite the officer without so much as a please and laced his fingers in front of him. “You are a surprisingly easy mech to find.”

Regarding the silver mech with scrutiny, Prowl noted he was all sharp edges and oozed dangerous from his clawed hands to the wicked glint of the indigo visor, undoubtedly scrutinising him in return. He suspected the mech was armed but remained unfazed by his sudden appearance. “My apologies, was I supposed to remain hidden?” he asked dryly, prompting a low chuckle from the visored mech. 

“You got bearings, I’ll give you that, could kill you where you’re sitting and no mech in here would even realise until I was long gone and your frame greyed out.” 

Prowl placed his datapad down and folded his hands in front of him expectantly. “Well now, you appear to have me at a disadvantage.”

“Said I could not that I would mech.”

“Mm,” Prowl hummed with an ever so slight smirk of his own. “Perhaps that would go against your style, Meister isn’t it?”

Sitting back Meister smiled broadly, “You’ve done your homework.”

“Oh, I can assure you I have done more than that.”

“That a threat, mech?”

“That all depends on whether you want your cronies finding out who you really are now doesn’t it,” the black and white watched the silver mech closely but he gave nothing away. “I do believe they would be more of a threat to you than I.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about but you need to find a way to back off from my operation or--”

“--Or what?” Prowl goaded with a hint of amusement. He pulled out another datapad and placed it on the table, sliding it across towards the silver mech with a single digit, followed by two more. “Does it bother you that your friends will find out you aren’t really Meister of Praxus? Or should I call you, Ricochet of Kaon, or even Freeway from Crystal City?”

Unable to keep his visor from brightening in surprise, the silver mech barked a laugh, “Mech, I knew you were good but frag me. I’m beginning to think you are a fan.”

“When an unknown, unusual looking mech appears in my city, I make it a point to know everything about them, including that which they may not want me to know.”

“Alright,  _ Detective _ Prowl, what do you want?” 

“I want your operation. I know you're not the big mech in charge, but you're high enough to bring this group down. I want names, locations and I want them all and if you will not give me your superiors, I will hold you personally responsible for every incident of terrorism that has occurred in the last two vorns. These identities of yours will be  _ conveniently _ leaked to the media and I will let your organisation handle that as they see fit. Either way, be it by the city of Praxus or from your organisation’s own hand, the penalty for your crimes is reformatting or deactivation. Which do you prefer?” 

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, my mech,” the silver mech warned. 

“I am not your mech and I have a strong idea,” Prowl countered tersely. “The choice is yours.”

Casually looking around the diner, noticing furtive glances in their direction as though he had been expected all along, the silver mech reached out in a flash and grabbed Prowl’s arm tightly, a single tapered finger digging into the comms unit on his wrist as Prowl flinched subtly at the prick of pain. “Now you listen and you listen good,” he tightened his grip when Prowl instinctively tried to pull his arm away, a bead of energon forming where he had pierced the enforcer’s plating. “Yeah, you think you got me huh? Mech, you’ve stumbled onto something so much bigger than you realise. Bigger than you, bigger than me, you think I’m going to turn my team over to you rods hm? You’re out of your slaggin’ processor.” While he was speaking and holding Prowl’s attention, he injected nanites into Prowl’s comms and hacked into his private network. 

_ //Can you hear me, Prowler? If so don’t make any indication. Just listen. I am an Iaconi agent. I work for Prime, you release those identities, I’m a dead mech and the case we’ve been building against the Diode group will fall apart, this goes much further then Praxus. Now I can help you, feed you intel, your mechs can take down this terrorist ring in another vorn, I just need time.// _

_ //How do I know you’re telling me the truth?// _

_ //Sending you an encrypted data pack. I’ve been undercover for a vorn, worked my way up, Meister has a reputation. Now I can meet you and explain more but not here, somewhere more upbeat, busy you know, less conspicuous? A real bar.// _

_ //What is your name? Your real name?// _

_ //Later, I promise, not here. I’ll meet you in two cycles at the location I’m sending. Don’t be late.// _

_ //I am assuming you won’t look like you so who will I know to look for?// _

_ //I’ll find you, mech, you stand out.// _

“I hope I’ve made myself crystal clear?” The silver mech raised his voice as he got to his feet, brushing the datapads onto the floor with a loud clatter drawing alarmed attention to their table. 

Prowl held up his hand to stop the other officers in the diner from coming to assist him.

“You stay away, or you’ll regret it! Nobody’s invulnerable, mech, remember that.” 

Maintaining his composure, Prowl watched the silver mech march out of the diner and let air out of his vents. 

“Chief?” an enforcer prompted with concern, “We’re going to let him leave?”

He still didn’t know whether to trust the mech’s story or not but it certainly made more sense than the information he did have on the mech. He had been struggling to make sense of the evidence going missing or not quite giving them enough as though it has been altered. In addition, he had been unable to fathom this mech's motives in working with this group other than arbitrary chaos. It was as though the mech had simply appeared one cycle. Now it made sense as to why; they were working for the same side. “Yes, we arrest him now, we’ll have nothing, he’ll lawyer up and we’ll be prevented from using this little charade of his to our advantage.”

Another officer approached, “Sir, you’re hurt.”

“I’m alright, Streetstar,” he reassured, his thoughts focusing on the strange silver mech as he accessed the data pack he’d been sent. It was encrypted, he would need to download it to his home computer. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one dark cycle. I’m going home.”

“Goodnight, Sir, I’ve called you a transport, there could be more of them out there and they know who you are. It’s outside.”

“A wise precaution, Streetstar, thank you,” Prowl conceded graciously before getting into the waiting transport.

****

**Next Cycle**

Prowl did not enjoy this kind of establishment. It was loud and strobing coloured lights were a constant distraction in his vision. His sensor panels practically ached from the incessant bombardment of music, mechs talking loudly and dancing. Wisely, he had covered up his enforcer decals, concealing the black of his chassis with a subtle shimmery blue to look like any other standard Praxian in a club, blending into the crowds. 

Meister’s data packet had been so heavily encrypted that even he had had trouble accessing it. What little he had been able to retrieve, agent credentials and a service history, did corroborate with Meister’s story, but he had fallen short of a name. Prowl wasn’t familiar with all of the new Prime’s staff and so the trail had run frustratingly cold, leaving him no choice but to meet the mech in this bar, fully aware that this could just as easily be a trap. 

Sitting at the bar, he gestured to the bar mech. “One Engex, with a magnesium shot,” he ordered, glancing at his surroundings expectantly. Amidst the throngs of femmes and mechs having a good time, he had no hope of spotting Meister’s silver paint job, nevermind whatever disguise he was now sporting. Prowl sighed. He hated his disadvantage but he needed a lead in this case and Meister was, unfortunately, his biggest hope at getting one. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said Prowl stood out. Meister smirked as he spotted him from the upper levels of the club, plating glinting fetchingly in the club’s lights, painted like a civilian and sitting like an enforcer on a stakeout. From the way he moved and spoke and maintained an almost constant awareness of everything around him, Meister could tell that Prowl was far out of his comfort zone, and yet he had shown up anyway. Scanning for wires or recording devices, Meister was impressed and mildly concerned to find Prowl had come with neither. Deciding he had let Prowl wait long enough, he headed down to the bar to put the mech out of his misery. 

“What’s a shy spark like you doing in a dive like this, hm?” he began, sidling up to the mech at the bar, ignoring Prowl’s faint protest. “Can I refill your drink there, sweetspark?” he waved to the bar mech who topped up Prowl’s glass. “I’ll have what this beauty’s havin,’” he grinned and turned to look at Prowl. His golden optics shone as he looked the mech up and down suggestively. “You get all dressed up for me?” he teased gently.

Prowl frowned at the attention, his faceplates heating despite himself, “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone, I will pay for the drink, um--?”

“And here I thought I made quite the impression before,” he bowed his helm in greeting ever so slightly and smirked at Prowl before flicking his visor down briefly. “Besides, I asked you out, and I always like to pay on a first date.”

Prowl stared at the white mech in disbelief, “My apologies, I was... distracted,” he murmured, awkwardly playing along. 

“It’s a distracting place to be, how about we go somewhere a little quieter?” The mech suggested, boldly running a finger along the outside edge of Prowl’s nearest sensor panel. “I like a bit of privacy,” he added with an inviting grin. 

Letting the mech take his hand, Prowl grabbed his cube and allowed the white mech to lead him through the crowds and up the steps to the second level of the club. There they ducked into one of the many private booths, tucked away in the darkest corners of the room, with an unseen mech who drew the drape closed after them. If Prowl had been wary before, he now felt positively cornered and found himself tensing up. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

“Relax, mech, before you strain something,” the white mech, Meister in disguise, chuckled. “Safer in here than you are out there, you’ve got ‘officer of the law’ written all over you.” He lounged on the sofa seat and placed his drink on the table. “You know I’m an agent of Iacon, you read the file right?”

“Partially,” Prowl answered, sitting down slowly, his cube held loosely in both hands. “It was heavily encrypted but the credentials checked out with Iaconi central command. Though they refused to give me a name or an updated image.”

“Good bots,” the other mech replied. “Would have to fire them if they had. I hate firing mechs, it’s the worst part of my job.”

“Just who are you?” 

Sitting up, the mech gave a slight bow of his helm, fingertips touching his forehelm in a traditional Praxian greeting, he even fluttered the small sensor panels on his back that Prowl had just noticed. “I’m Jazz, head of intelligence for Iacon Central Command and Prime’s executive officer.” 

His mouth fell open and Prowl stared in open disbelief. “Jazz,  _ the _ Jazz of Iacon Command?” he could not quite believe his audios. Jazz’s intelligence networks and operations in Iacon were worthy of study and were used as training for enforcers across Cybertron. Working for Sentinel Prime, the mech had been instrumental in uncovering the corruption of that particular leader at great personal risk, thereby averting a civil war. As a result, he had been appointed the new Prime’s right hand. Prowl knew who he was and had been an admirer of his work for some time. “You look… different,” he added suspiciously, his optics narrowing as he regarded the other mech’s white frame, golden optics, sensor panels and flashy turquoise detailing. Even his helm had strange pointy fins and was completely white when it should have been black with sensor horns.

Jazz’s optics flashed playfully as he laughed, “I can’t show up here looking like myself. Your little terrorist group has optics everywhere. It would either make them step up their attacks or push them deeper underground if they thought I was working with you. We’d have a significantly reduced chance of bringing them down.”

“You’re Prime’s right hand and yet you’re undercover,” Prowl frowned. “Surely that is extremely risky, your covers have to be impenetrable and I have uncovered three of them.”

“Yeah, you’re good. I mean I knew you were good, I’ve read your work and followed your cases but nobody’s ever gotten that close to me before,” Jazz grinned. “But this was getting serious, we believe that this group is receiving orders from Kaon, I'm sure you're aware of the current political tensions there and we needed the best on the job.”

“The best being you, I assume?” Prowl countered dryly.

Smiling broadly, Jazz held out his arms, “You know it mech. Haven’t gotten where I am by not being good at what I do,” his tone and expression changed suddenly, “Now I’m not here to step on anybody’s pedes. Your team can have all the credit bringing these slag heaps down, I’m just here to make sure we get them all and we don’t miss any splinter operations. Just need another vorn to get enough evidence to find out where the orders are coming from, then we can start wrapping things up.”

“You know very well I can’t just sit around and wait for you to hand me the case,” Prowl replied mildly affronted. “I have a job to do and my superiors are expecting it to be done quickly. If we don’t start making progress soon, they will openly turn the case over to Prime’s agents. Then not only will my career and the careers of my team, who have worked extremely hard every cycle tracking this group and gathering evidence, be ruined, but our ‘little terrorist group’, as you call them, will do exactly as you said and go underground, leading to more deaths. Not only that but Iaconi involvement would likely raise suspicions and whatever influence Kaon is exerting over this group will be ceased immediately with no trace they were ever involved and you will have spent a vorn undercover for nothing.”

“You're hitting all the right notes, Prowl," Jazz agreed somberly. "What I had in mind was more of a collaboration. We meet like this in secret, I pass you intel and you guys start taking these glitches down one cell at a time, you start getting results and I get a little more time to get the proof I need that Kaon is behind this without alarming the larger cells off the bat.”

“You’ll be putting yourself in grave danger, if they find out--”

“--They won’t, mech.”

“But if they do, you will disappear and there will be no trace of you found ever again,” Prowl frowned with misgiving. “I want to ensure your safety as well, if we are to be working on the same side, I insist upon it. I protect my sources.”

“I have heard that you don’t compromise,” Jazz grinned. “I can send you a safe word, if I’m in any danger and need extraction, I’ll send it and a location, how’s that sound?”

“Hardly foolproof but it will suffice,” Prowl conceded, taking another sip of his drink. “How do you know of my work anyway?”

Swirling his cube Jazz smirked, “Had to know who I was up against, I was going undercover in your city after all. Have to admit, I was more concerned with you getting ahead of me than I was the group finding out I was an undercover agent. You nearly had us a few times in the last vorn, you have no idea how close you came.”

“You flatter me, I think,” Prowl responded demurely. “It has been a frustrating case.”

“Cases involving politics always are, mech. I hate politics personally,” Jazz explained. “Have the senators been giving you a hard time?”

Prowl huffed, “Mm, nothing I cannot handle. Unfortunately, you don’t rise to this rank in the enforcers without having some handle on politics.”

Jazz laughed, “Well that makes putting in my recommendation for our new strategist to Prime much easier.”

Optics brightening, Prowl took a swig of his highgrade, “You have seen my application?” he was surprised that a mech in Jazz’s senior position would bother with such simple administrative duties. “I haven’t even informed my superiors yet.”

“Mech, it’s my job to know who’s applied to be Iacon command’s chief strategist, so I can assess who I want to work with. I made sure I looked them over before I took this mission,” Jazz explained with a growing smile. “Obviously, I haven't had a chance to do much with it since, mind you.” 

“I ah, suppose not,” Prowl answered somewhat quietly, not liking the idea of being scrutinised.

As if reading his processor, Jazz leant forward and placed a hand on Prowl’s, “I’m not here to check up on you, mech, don’t worry. I was already assigned to this job before your application came in and like I said,” his smile grew as he regarded Prowl with intrigue in his optics. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Prowl didn’t know what to think of it, it was probably the high grade, but having the planet’s head of intelligence say that he had noticed him and his work prior to this meeting made his spark warm and flutter a little in his chest. He met Jazz’s gaze and smiled as he attempted not to notice the warm reassurance in Jazz’s field nor be hyper-aware of the mech’s fingers brushing subtly against his own.


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected developments turn Prowl's personal life upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of jumping around time wise in this chapter. It's all a bit wibbly wobbly timey wimey. Here is a time unit key to help.
> 
> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles

**A Quarter of a Vorn (20 Solar cycles) after their first meeting.**

“Perhaps I should have been more resistant to your charms from that ‘first date’ as you like to call it,” Prowl huffed, disgruntled, his angry gaze fixed on an insignificant point of the clinic’s walls. 

Jazz let out a small sigh, “C’mon, Prowler, you can’t blame yourself like that.”

“I don’t. I blame you.”

“How was I supposed to know this would happen, I warned you about the bomb and you went anyway,” Jazz protested mildly. “At the time, I was more concerned that you’d been killed, you were lucky to only walk away from it with spark chamber and processor damage.”

Prowl had no response to that and deep down, he didn’t really blame Jazz. He did however, feel annoyed with himself for allowing their trysts to continue for as long as they had and for not having his spark chamber examined more closely after the bombing. He had always been so careful in the past, not that it had ever been close to being an issue to not mix business with pleasure. Jazz certainly had had a charm about him however that Prowl had found increasingly difficult to resist over the time they spent working together. 

It had happened gradually from that first meeting. They had agreed to meet regularly so Prowl had access to the most up to date information on the terrorist group’s plans and whereabouts. They had to be strategic in who they targeted and arrested, something which could only be done with Jazz’s input. The secret meetings were always in busy clubs that had convenient private areas for them to have their discussions. Jazz had treated Prowl with awe and respect for his analytical abilities as opposed to the open hostility from mechs feeling threatened by him that he was used to. It had helped Prowl relax more in Jazz’s presence which Jazz encouraged at every opportunity. Prowl had soon discovered that Jazz was a fan of his dry sarcasm and wit and was also a very tactile individual. He had demonstrated a fascination with his sensor panels which Prowl had indulged. Although, in hindsight that had probably helped land him in his current predicament. 

It had all come to a head following a particularly violent raid which Prowl had led based on Jazz’s information and forewarning. He had been injured in a booby trap set by the terrorists who had begun to suspect they had a leak. Jazz had known of their suspicions and had instructed Prowl to lead the raid anyway in a complex plan of misdirection.

Unfortunately, Jazz had only learnt of the bomb placement after their meeting and so his warning had come too late to stop or alter the raid. Prowl had been hit by shrapnel from the explosion some of which pierced his spark chamber and processor. He had been rushed to critical care and had made a rapid and remarkable recovery. It had only taken a couple of deca-cycles but in that time he had been unable to meet Jazz nor update him on his condition. Jazz had learnt about his injury from the news stream and in typical Jazz fashion had sneaked into Prowl's hospital room towards the end of his treatment. 

****

**Flashback**

Prowl sensed there was someone in his room during his recharge cycle but assumed it was a nurse checking his vitals so didn’t online his optics straight away. The presence came close to his berth and hovered quietly which was strange and so he powered up his optics and peered at the visitor in the dimly lit room. “Jazz?”

“Hey, there are those baby blues I’ve been missing,” Jazz answered with clear relief in his tone. He gently stroked the plating near that which had been removed on the side of Prowl’s helm so medical cabling could be attached while another hand lightly touched the edges of the hole in his chest. “You had me worried there, Prowler.”

“It was not my intention,” Prowl triggered the mechanism of the berth to help him sit up and he gave Jazz a tired smile, surprised to see him looking like himself and not in any disguise. “I hope you did not get up to too much trouble in my absence.”

“Well we control Praxus now,” Jazz quipped with a grin, “And run the enforcers, got ourselves a little army.”

“I’m sure,” Prowl chuckled softly. “Should’ve known you were only after my job.” He fell quiet for a long few kliks while regarding Jazz with silent curiosity and growing concern. “It’s extremely risky for you to be here looking like… well you.”

Jazz didn’t respond and instead tentatively reached out again to brush his fingers over Prowl’s cheek. “When you didn’t show for our meeting after that raid, I thought the worst. I was so angry... “ he paused and looked away, visor dimming. “Almost blew my cover beating the slag out of one of the guys responsible.”

“Jazz!”

“It’s alright, I used his failure and incompetence at allowing you enforcers to get so close as cover, trust me, they believed it.”

Prowl took hold of Jazz’s other hand, “You need to be careful, if they’re laying traps for us they suspect someone, watch your back, you needn’t worry about me.”

“I know but I did, I couldn’t help myself,” Jazz squeezed Prowl’s hand in both of his and without thinking brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “We’ve been working together for a solar cycle now and the more I got to know you, the more I wanted to know you until I couldn’t stop thinking about you and this doesn’t happen to me  _ at all _ and I know I shouldn’t be invested but if anything had happened to you,” he trailed off with a small shake of his helm, before glancing up and sheepishly meeting Prowl’s intensely astonished gaze. “In all honesty I think you’ve got me under some kind of processor control,” he joked lightly in an attempt to break the thick tension in the room. 

“Jazz…I--”

“--Don’t. I know what you’re going to say. It’s a conflict of interests and I’m a stupid glitch for getting emotionally involved, I know. I didn’t expect to, it just kinda hit me when I heard you were in the hospital. I know you’ll probably want to stop the meetings or get someone to liaise for you, I understand. Just let me have this klik.”

Prowl canted his helm slightly and smiled wistfully, “It is all those things and you are a glitch but then I suppose that makes me one too,” he paused for a klik, searching for the right thing to say, being in touch with his emotions was not his strong suit. “It is inappropriate and yes stopping is the proper thing to do but,” he paused, reaching up to brush his fingertips over a sensor horn causing Jazz to tilt his helm into the gentle touch. “I find myself in a quandary, having developed similar feelings for you. I have never met anyone quite as enigmatic, so obviously charming and yet so accepting of me and my 'difficult personality' and against my better judgement I would rather our meetings didn’t end. Not only because we are professionals at the end of the cycle and I believe that we will not let this development impact our work but the intel is extremely valuable and I cannot stop this group without your help.”

Jazz hated that Prowl considered himself to be difficult based on his previous experiences in his personal life and leant in with a chuckle to murmur conspiratorially, “Only after me for my data huh?"

“It  _ is _ very enticing data,” Prowl teased back playfully. 

Jazz laughed softly and took hold of Prowl’s hand once more, “We’ll get in real trouble if anyone finds out,” he pointed out. 

“Then,” Prowl’s gaze fell on their hands and he curled his fingers around Jazz’s, not quite believing he was about to overstep that professional line by some margin. “We’ll just have to make sure nobody does, won’t we?”

Daring to close the distance between them, a fond yet hesitant smile played across Jazz’s mouth. “Now you’re speaking my language, mech.” His optics studied Prowl’s face from behind his visor before he drew Prowl closer and pressed a tender yet brief kiss to his lips, one that promised so much more.

****

**Present cycle**

“Designation Prowl?” 

Prowl looked up at the nurse and shared a glance with Jazz. “Yes, that’s me.”

The nurse smiled, “Doctor Iatric will see you for your spark scan now.” 

“Thank you,” he got to his feet and Jazz caught hold of his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“You want some company?” 

Squeezing his hand, Prowl smiled, “Well it is your fault so it would be only fair.”

Jazz stood and pecked Prowl’s cheek, “Definitely takes two to get this far, Detective Prowl.”

Prowl tried to smile but it would not come and he squeezed Jazz’s hand more tightly instead. “Jazz… I’m…”

“I know. I’m scared too,” he cupped Prowl’s cheek. “M’not going anywhere though, I promise. Can’t get rid of me now, mech. I’ve only just started making a whole big complicated mess of your life,” he grinned. “Now come on, let’s go see how much more complicated we’ve made it hm?”

Prowl nodded as Jazz walked with him hand in hand into the doctor’s office and gazed at the mech by his side. He could have tried resisting the mech’s charms of course, he already knew in his spark though that it would have been a futile endeavour.

The doctor looked up as they entered and she smiled brightly, “Prowl, Jazz, nice to see you both again. Let’s see what we’re having shall we?”

****

**20 Solar Cycles later.**

**(Half a vorn since their first meeting)**

Prowl sat in front of the screen nervously. Jazz had told him to relax and that it would be fine but this was his first meeting, albeit virtually, with the Prime of Cybertron. How did Jazz honestly expect him to relax? The Prime had stated in his communique that it was just a preliminary interview for the head strategist position but still he was apprehensive and wanted very much to make a good impression. He tensed as the meeting request came in and quickly he made sure his desk was neat and that there was no trace of Jazz anywhere in view - the mech had a habit of making his presence noticed. Clicking the accept button he gave a small smile when Prime’s face appeared on his monitor. 

“Good cycle, Prowl, it’s a pleasure to finally speak with you,” Prime’s deep timbre resonated through the computer. 

“Good cycle, Prime,” Prowl greeted cordially, giving a slight bow of his helm. 

“Now, I know you’re very busy working on the Diode terrorist case over there, I have agents working on it too, so I won’t keep you too long. I wanted to meet you and ask why you were interested in the head strategist position.”

Prowl resisted the urge to comment on being aware of Prime’s agents, he didn’t know exactly how much Jazz had told the Prime and didn’t want to inadvertently land him in trouble. It seemed Jazz managed to create trouble all of his own making and didn’t need Prowl to help him even if he was complicit in it.

****

**Flashback - 3 deca-cycles after being released from hospital**

“You sure you’re okay? It’s alright you know if you need more time, we can always meet next deca-cycle, the group isn’t planning anything big just now.”

Prowl gave Jazz a pointed look, “For the last time, I am fine, Jazz. Now will you please sit down and stop flapping at me like a new creator.”

Pulling a face Jazz did as he was told and gave Prowl a lopsided grin, “Just worry about you, mech. Told you, I can’t help it.”

“Yes, I remember,” Prowl answered a little more softly, resting his hand over Jazz’s. “I assure you I am ready to be back at work and if the group is quiet, this is the perfect time to take as many of them down as we can.”

Jazz nodded his agreement and turned his hand over so he could hold Prowl’s. “We haven’t... um, talked about what we said at the hospital.”

Raising an optic ridge at Jazz’s apparent nervousness, Prowl gave him a wry smirk, “Jazz, we haven’t spoken since the hospital. Do you expect my feelings to have changed?” 

Letting out a chuckle, Jazz gave a half-sparked shrug, “Well, no but you might’ve changed your mind and I just wanted to be sure. Hooking up with the leading investigator while undercover is a first for me so I’m sort of just feeling my way through it.”

“I’m flattered,” Prowl replied dryly. 

“You should be, mech,” Jazz looked Prowl up and down suggestively. “Ain’t just any mech that can catch the Meister’s optic.”

Prowl laughed and leant forward to press a chaste kiss to Jazz’s cheek, “So full of charm, aren’t you?” he teased.

Jazz turned his helm slightly and caught Prowl’s with a hand to prevent him from pulling away, “I hope there's enough of it,” he murmured softly. 

Prowl’s intakes hitched as he gazed at Jazz. This was a series of firsts for him and couldn’t help feeling somewhat apprehensive about his actions. He had never fraternised at work and certainly never with an informant. Prowl tended to keep his personal and professional life separate and that was how he preferred it but Jazz. Enigmatic, intelligent, charming Jazz had wormed his way into his processor and under his plating and made Prowl feel like breaking every rule he had ever set for himself. Before he had thought about what he was doing his lips were pressed against Jazz’s and the mech was taking him in his arms and holding him tightly, squeezing him a little as they deepened their kiss, drawing it out until Prowl heard himself moan quietly into it as his sensor net came alive. 

****

**Present cycle**

“You’re very well informed on what the position entails,” Prime commented when Prowl had finished. “You’ve done your homework.”

Prowl just smiled as Prime echoed Jazz’s words from their second meeting. 

“My second officer, Jazz, I’m sure you’ve heard of him, he will be partaking in the selection process which is why this is just a preliminary meeting as he is unavailable at this time. You will be working with him directly so I want his recommendations first after I have interviewed all the short-listed candidates. It might take some time, he’s a busy mech I’m sure you understand,” Prime explained.

“Of course,” Prowl answered with a small smile. 

“He is reviewing the applications and I am aware that he thinks highly of your work in Praxus so I will let you know when the interview is scheduled. Good luck on your case, Detective Prowl.”

“Thank you, Sir.” 

The screen went blank and Prowl turned his chair to glare at the grinning mech leaning against the door frame of his office room. “So you’re breaking and entering now?”

Jazz grinned and sauntered over, “You didn’t give me a key, what’s a mech supposed to do?” 

“Take a hint?” Prowl smirked at Jazz’s exaggerated pout. “I thought we agreed that you shouldn’t be seen here.”

Jazz crouched down in front of Prowl and rested his hands and helm on his legs, “Be seen,” he scoffed. “Give me some credit, ain’t nobody going to see me here.”

“What about Prime?” 

“I made sure I was out of audio and video,” he shifted and cupped Prowl’s face with both hands. “Lover, you worry too much. I’m very good at staying invisible, trust me,” he declared, kissing Prowl sweetly.

“Mm… you can’t always quiet me with a kiss, mmppff,” Prowl was cut off as Jazz kissed him again. 

“I can try,” he grinned playfully before ducking his helm and kissing Prowl’s chest above his spark chamber. “How’s he been this cycle?”

“Energetic,” Prowl smiled warmly, gazing down at Jazz. “Not unlike his progenitor,” he added with a teasing note. 

“I don’t see you complaining in the berth, mech,” Jazz countered with a knowing glow of his visor. 

“Your stamina bodes well for you considering how demanding he already is,” Prowl placed a hand over his chest, “But apparently you’re a very busy mech and I have to wait for you to give me a recommendation.”

“I am  _ very _ busy,” Jazz announced as he proceeded to pepper kisses over Prowl’s chest, moving slowly up to his throat. “Have my hands full of this Praxian business. So my recommendation is for you to relax a while,” he grinned at Prowl. “It could be a few cycles.” 

“Ambitious,” Prowl teased and shifted in his chair as Jazz began caressing his sensor panels while mouthing his audio. “And how do you propose I relax?”

“I know a mech with some talented hands,” Jazz purred into Prowl’s audio, moving back and taking his hands to draw him out of his chair. “Gives a great wing massage, followed by any special requests you might have.”

“I might have a few,” Prowl let his field flare with his desire as Jazz led him to his berth room. 

“I hear he’s  _ extremely _ good,” Jazz continued with a smirk, gently tugging Prowl over to his berth. 

Chuckling Prowl pressed flush to Jazz and kissed him deeply, breaking it when Jazz let out a wanton moan and a smile, “I’ll be the judge of that.”


	3. In Too Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles
> 
> I promise it gets less time jumpy as it progresses.

**5 Deca-cycles after being released from the hospital**

A gasp escaped his open mouth as his hood and sensor panels scraped against the wall. He had resisted letting things advance this far while still working the case but after a harrowing ordeal during a recent cell raid for Jazz, Prowl was hard-pressed to say no to the mech. Not that he wanted to say no deep down - he had been deluding himself into thinking it was just an infatuation - as he had developed real feelings for the charismatic spy in spite of himself. 

He hadn't expected Jazz or rather Meister to show up at his apartment in the middle of the dark cycle, looking like he had fought off the undead hordes straight from Unicron’s pits. Jazz had virtually collapsed in Prowl’s arms who had promptly carried him to his wash rack and washed away the energon covering his silver frame. When he’d probed, Jazz refused to speak, refused to say anything about what had happened, only that he would know soon enough and that that night he just needed to be with some mech he trusted not to kill him. 

Prowl had sat with the mech, fed him warm energon, made minor field repairs on Jazz’s injuries as all enforcers were trained to do and had given the mech the silence he seemed to crave. They had only been able to meet twice since his discharge from the hospital and in their last meeting, once Jazz had given what pertinent intel he could, they had been unable to keep their hands off each other. It had felt so incredibly wrong to Prowl, so unprofessional and unbecoming of his senior position and yet as the cycle had melted away during their time together, being intimate with Jazz had only felt absolutely right in his spark. Nobody had ever grabbed his attention like Jazz had which was why he had been convinced it was infatuation and lust nothing more, in the beginning. 

Now, with Jazz pinning him against the wall of his apartment, his hot mouth on the cabling of his throat, licking and biting. His sharp, clever hands seemingly all over his body, holding him firmly while caressing a headlight here or a sensitive seam there with a tenderness that stalled Prowl’s intakes, he knew it was so much more than a physical preoccupation. “Jazz… ahh!” he cried out as the silver mech hitched him further up the wall, his hands grabbing his aft and curling about his thighs as Prowl lifted them and hooked them around his slender waist. His moan as Jazz pawed between his legs at his still closed panel was swallowed by a fierce kiss. 

“Frag… I need…” Jazz broke the kiss with a gasp and rested his forehelm against Prowl’s and his hands stilled on his frame. Their cooling fans whirred loudly in the apartment as Jazz took a few kliks to gather himself.

“Jazz?” Prowl prompted gently, his concerned optics searching the other mech’s face.

“I need you,” Jazz breathed out in a low whisper as though afraid to admit it aloud.

“You have me.”

“No,” Jazz shook his helm. “I need you to see," he paused and scowled. "Prowl, next cycle, what you learn might change everything but I need you right now to trust me and let me show you my truth,” he placed a hand on Prowl’s chest above his spark. 

Realising what Jazz was implying, Prowl felt a curl of apprehension about his spark. Spark merging was only done when in a committed relationship. Did he want that, could he have that with this elusive mech who had only just come into his life? His bright optics met Jazz’s and the words of caution he had already prepared died on his lips when he saw that visor lift and recognised the desperation swimming in Jazz’s real azure optics. Mutely he nodded and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. 

Relieved, Jazz flashed Prowl a wan smile and carried him into his berth room. Kneeling on Prowl’s plush berth, he lay the black and white mech back onto the nest of cushions and watched with fond amusement as Prowl got himself and his sensor panels comfortable. “Frag, you’re beautiful,” he uttered in a hushed tone, his hand stroking down the length of Prowl’s body. 

Lying back, Prowl shyly smiled up at Jazz, he wasn’t used to being complimented on his looks and it caused his faceplates to heat as Jazz leant over him and kissed him once more, breaking it to pepper kisses over his face and down to his chest where he began to tease a headlight with his glossa. Helm falling back against the multitude of cushions, Prowl let out a low groan of enjoyment, Jazz certainly knew how to render a mech strutless. 

It didn’t take Jazz long to get Prowl worked up to the point of pleading for more. He was also driven crazy by the enforcer’s talented hands that knew just which areas to tease and to caress with just the right amount of pressure. His movements and desire became more fervent and intense, his panel retracting as he urged Prowl to open his too. Watching the mech, normally so composed, so in control, give himself this way to him, trust him with his body, with his spark, humbled Jazz and he kissed Prowl again, pouring his affections into it as he slid his eager spike into Prowl’s slick valve with a groan. 

Prowl keened at the penetration and his fingers raked down Jazz’s back struts, his legs parting a little more as Jazz rocked into him with growing urgency, dragging whimpering cries from his vocaliser. 

Jazz expertly brought Prowl’s overload to its climax and drank in the sight of the mech arching beneath him, gasping his name as his faceplates screwed up with pleasure. Letting Prowl come down from his high just a little, he began to thrust once more, this time slowly, deeply, dragging his spike in and out of the well-lubricated valve. He panted as he picked up his pace gradually, enjoying the mewls of pleasure escaping from Prowl’s parted lips. His spike throbbed hotly and he could feel the beginnings of his own overload curling about his array, driving his rhythm until he was pounding into his lover with abandon, groaning wantonly, clinging to Prowl until the wave of pleasure crested and every sensor node in his body lit up, eliciting a gasped cry of release as he overloaded hard. Panting heavily, his plating pinging as it tried to cool, he kissed the central seam of Prowl’s chest plate and cupped his face. “Let me show you?” he asked once more, longing more than anything to still be accepted after he had shown Prowl the truth of why he was there that dark cycle. 

Processor spinning from the hazy pleasure of overload, Prowl obliged without hesitation. This mech made his spark spin faster, made him want to be reckless, reminded him what it felt like to be alive. Feelings he had become a stranger too and hadn’t hoped to find again. His chest plating parted, revealing his spark chamber before it too opened and exposed his spark. 

Jazz stared at the brilliant blue orb and caressed the corona with his tapered fingertips. Prowl was so vulnerable at this moment. A twitch of his fingers and the mech would be dead, his spark eviscerated. To think of such horror caused Jazz’s spark to flip somersaults in his chest. He gave his HUD the command to reveal his own spark to Prowl and marveled at the look of awe on the mech’s face as he gazed up at him. His handsome faceplates bathed in spark light. Lowering himself down, he brought their sparks closer until there was no more space between them. 

The two sparks orbited each other as the merge took place. Faster and faster until neither mech could tell where one ended and the other began. Their mutual cries of ecstasy filled Prowl’s berth room echoing out into his apartment as they lost themselves in the other. Their secrets were unfolded and laid bare for the other to witness. Spark merging was the most intimate act on Cybertron, there wasn't anything that could be hidden, giving them both the choice to either accept what they found or reject it and the mech. The latter was very much Jazz’s expectation following this dark cycle’s revelations.

****

Jazz watched the Praxian silently. First, he sat on the edge of his berth, his back to him, sensor panels rising and falling slowly. Then he had taken to pacing the room at the foot of the berth while muttering to himself before finally leaving the berth room altogether. Jazz had remained where he was, waiting for Prowl to ask him to leave. Even now, with the enforcer perched on the berth, having returned to the room a groon later, Jazz waited in silence for the request he had decided was inevitable.

"You left them there," Prowl began hesitantly. "Did you know your cell planned to blow up their hold out?" 

Jazz momentarily glanced up and met Prowl's earnest gaze. It would do no good to lie to the mech now. Dimming his visor he lowered his gaze and nodded his helm. 

"So you left them there to die, if they hadn't already succumbed to their injuries," Prowl continued, a frown creasing his faceplates. 

"Yeah," Jazz whispered softly. 

"How many?" 

"At least four that I fought, not sure how many my group was fending off though," he answered quietly. "You'll probably get the exact numbers next cycle." 

Prowl vented air slowly and looked pained at the numbers. "Four, probably more enforcers, deactivated under my command, on a call out I had assigned them." 

Jazz looked up in surprise. "Prowl, this was my doing, their sparks are on my hands, that's why I needed you to see it, see the truth of the mech I am through my spark. This ain't nobody's fault but mine." 

"I sent them to that holdout, Jazz. They were following my instructions. It wasn't based on your intel, it was a lead from one of my officer's informants. A high ranking member of Diode had been seen, this was a chance to make huge headway in the case, give the Lord Commandant something to report back to Prime. I have been under pressure for results so I didn't check who it was that had been seen, I didn't know it was your cell. I ordered them to follow it up, take a covert team and to bring the mech… to bring you in alive, or deactivated," Prowl bowed his helm and pinched his nasal bridge. "I should have checked, I could have prevented this." 

"You were doing your job, mech," Jazz insisted, shuffling over to Prowl and wrapping his arms around him. "They knew the risks, you knew the risks, I'm the one who should have anticipated this eventuality. If you'd have dismissed their intel you would have brought suspicions down on you, they'd have figured out who I was and it would have risked the entire operation. Besides, I'm the one who turned up here covered in their energon, hoping you'd find it in your spark to forgive me. You are not to blame for this, Prowl. I could have let them take us in… despite my group's suspicions." He held Prowl more tightly. "I let them be killed to preserve my cover and the truth is, if I had to relive it, I would have to do it again." 

Prowl listened as Jazz's voice cracked with his confession. If his cover had been blown he likely would have been tortured then killed. Prime himself would have become at risk if they'd somehow managed to break the mech. Prowl knew the price and risks of being an enforcer but for Jazz that price, that sacrifice was so much higher. Going over what Jazz had shared with him during their spark merge and remembering the anguish he felt in Jazz's spark he exhaled shakily and curled his arms around the still, silver mech. "You did what was required," he murmured into his audio. "What was necessary for the mission, this case and to ultimately bring these terrorists to justice so they can't hurt any more innocents." 

"But Prowler, I'm a… mech I'm a killer, I could have done it differently… could have tried to warn them somehow, get them out of there, I--"

Prowl cupped Jazz's helm with both hands and got him to focus, "--Jazz, you acted for the best outcome of the mission saving who knows how many lives in the long run and by Primus, as selfish as I feel for saying this, you stayed alive." 

Jazz let out a choked back sob before embracing Prowl tightly once more, practically clinging to him as he wept for those sparks he had been instrumental in destroying. It wasn't the first time as an undercover agent he had had good mechs' energon on his hands and it likely wouldn't be the last. Knowing that on some level Prowl understood and still accepted him was an overwhelming relief he hadn't been expecting nor was the subsequent outpouring of emotion that followed. Looking up he retracted his visor and through his tears he kissed this mech that had inexplicably taken hold of his spark. "I love you."

Prowl was blown away by those three words and simply kissed Jazz soundly in return. This had all happened so fast he didn't know how to feel or respond right at that moment, he also couldn't ignore the pain in his spark at the knowledge of his enforcers' demise, no words felt right. Instead, he held Jazz close and soothed him as best he could while Jazz held onto Prowl tightly and mourned the horrors he had had to commit in the name of justice and peace.

****

**Present Cycle - 20 Solar Cycles after Prowl's preliminary interview with Prime. (3 quarters of a vorn after their first meeting)**

"Jazz, you really shouldn't be here," Prowl protested mildly as he tidied his at-home workspace. "Prime will be calling soon and you have important evidence to deliver to my precinct." 

Grinning as Prowl ushered him from his perch on the edge of his desk, Jazz waved dismissively, "For starters, I already delivered the evidence and was interviewed by your enforcer mech, Streetstar. Your final raid next deca-cycle will go off without a hitch I'm sure so it's much better that I lay low somewhere discrete--"

"--Discreet?" Prowl scoffed with vague incredulity. "You've been coming here so often while undercover, sneaking around, that I'm surprised your group hasn't used it as a hideout," he teased with a quirk of his lips into a smirk. 

"Lay low somewhere  _ discrete _ , because nobody knows how to hide their trail like me," Jazz continued, pointedly ignoring the tease and kissed Prowl's hand. Catching it when the mech passed by him. "So I'm far away from the group when the slag goes down leaving them none the wiser and letting them believe Meister was killed by the raiding enforcers before I have to head back to Iacon. Secondly," Jazz drew Prowl into his arms preventing him from bustling about his apartment in an attempt to distract himself from his upcoming official interview with Prime and held him close. "You think I wouldn't be here to support my mech having his job interview with my boss?" He clicked in half sparked admonishment as he slow-danced Prowl around his living area. "Should know me better than that, Prowler," he smiled fondly at the mech in his arms. 

"You said yourself you wanted to keep this secret for now, especially from Prime given the circumstances," Prowl gently reminded, relenting a little to Jazz's distraction and allowing the mech to steal playful kisses. "And as much as I would enjoy having you distract me, I really must prepare," he added reluctantly. 

Jazz pouted a little, "Oh alright, fine, I can restrain myself while you talk to Prime," he grinned when Prowl kissed his pout.

"I'm only allowing you to remain in the room as long as you don't try to distract me," Prowl headed over to his desk and made himself comfortable, ready for Prime's call. 

"Would I do that to you?" Jazz had his hands over his spark as though wounded. At Prowl's ensuing pointed glare, he chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. "Okay you got me, I totally would," he backed off and flopped bodily onto Prowl's sofa seat. He stretched out with a knowing smirk and pretended not to notice Prowl's gaze roving over his languidly sprawled out body. He tilted his helm upside down as he stretched almost obscenely - Prowl would have likened him to a cyber cat at this point had Jazz asked - across the couch and threw Prowl a slag eating grin.

****

**1 solar cycle after their first spark merge.**

Prowl loved the Crystal Gardens of Praxus, they were its most beautiful feature in his opinion. Watching the crystals grow and evolve, surviving even acid rainstorms was a hobby he personally enjoyed. He had even bought a cutting from the garden’s gift shop to grow for himself. The legends spoke of a lonely Prince of ancient Praxus who had met and fallen in love with a Lord from another land who loved him equally in return. However, conspiring hands drove them apart and his love had been taken from him but not before leaving part of their spark with him and promising to return. He raised that sparkling with love but remained forever alone and always just a little sad. When his love never returned and his sparkling had grown he set out across the silica dunes that encircled the ancient city and vowed not to return until he had found his love. Neither the prince nor his Lord ever returned. Their child and then ruler of Praxus, who always believed her creators would have eventually found each other, even in death, created the crystal gardens and planted the first pair of crystals in their memory. She had wanted Praxus to shine like a star so her creators would always be able to find their way back home. Ever since then the gardens had been protected, cultivated and allowed to flourish, with Praxians considering it a place of peace. They were also frequented by new lovers and bonded pairs who believed that the undying love of that prince and his Lord blessed their unions.

Prowl, despite not being a mech for mythological tales, although he had loved the story as a youngling, still thought the gardens beautiful and the subtle song of vibrations the crystals admitted soothed his spark when he was stressed. ‘A fitting place for this unexpected meeting then,’ he thought to himself as he sipped a flask of warm foamy energon. Since that dark cycle in his apartment, the night they had spark merged and Jazz had had what he would have described as an emotional breakdown, Prowl had neither seen nor heard from the undercover mech. He had carried on with the case regardless and was beginning to see the results from Jazz’s previous intel. Diode was losing its grip on the city and his enforcers were regaining control once more. He had known Jazz was alright from reports of Meister being sighted by his own undercover officers but Prowl had no idea what had caused the mech to become radio silent. He wondered absently if it had anything to do with Jazz’s confession of love the last time he had seen him. He hoped Jazz hadn’t begun to regret their secret liaisons but he was prepared for that eventuality. It had been a bad idea right from the start and he couldn’t blame Jazz for pulling back after realising he had gotten in too deep. ‘That probably explains his wanting to meet in a public place,’ Prowl mused. Still, knowing that Jazz was cutting ties didn’t make Prowl miss him any less and he hated how much it made his spark ache to think about it. He was surprised that it triggered actual physical pain but then he had never been in this position before.

Caught up in his own processor and the ambiance of the crystal gardens, Prowl barely noticed an unfamiliar mech sit beside him on the bench. Although he also had no reason to pay any attention to the slender blue and white non-Praxian, he was expecting Jazz or at the very least, Meister.

“Beautiful place,” the stranger beside Prowl commented casually.

Prowl looked at him in surprise as he realised the mech was addressing him, “Yes, it is quite popular with tourists and locals alike.” 

“We have nothing quite so ornate in Iacon which is a shame. There is much to be said for art and beauty,” the mech continued.

At the mention of Iacon, Prowl frowned, “You’re from Iacon? That is a long way to come to look at crystals.”

The mech smiled, “Unfortunately, I come on business and my time is limited but I did want to visit before my transport back,” he half turned and greeted Prowl with a well-practised Praxian bow, his fingertips touching his forehelm. “My name is Mirage.”

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” Prowl asked suspiciously, not yet returning the greeting to this stranger.

Mirage smiled and nodded, “He said you would have a healthy level of paranoia, I respect that, you can never be too cautious in our line of work. I am from Iacon Command, I work for Jazz.”

Prowl stilled at that, why had Jazz sent one of his operatives, if he even had? He couldn't prevent the thought that something had happened to Jazz and frowned when it made his spark flop in his chest. 

Mirage continued in Prowl's ensuing silence, "I came to Praxus to receive an update from Jazz as he failed to meet his last checkpoint and Prime became concerned." 

"He needs help." Unable to hide his alarm at that, Prowl started formulating scenarios for possible extractions. 

"Now hold on there, Detective Prowl no need to strip a gear, Jazz is safe at the moment he just could not risk meeting as he has been working closely with the leaders of Diode. This is the closest he's gotten since he went undercover. He reported that he's close to uncovering a link to Kaon and then we can start shutting this operation down. He instructed me to meet you here to ensure that you were kept in the loop."

"I see," Prowl's concerns were only partially mollified. "Did he give a projected timeline?" 

Mirage regarded him curiously, "I did not understand why he would want to share any information with the local enforcers but he said you had been instrumental in helping him get this far."

Prowl bristled slightly at the haughty tone in Mirage's voice and could now understand why Jazz had wanted to keep everything as discrete as possible, "Your disapproval is irrelevant, Jazz made his choice. Now did he give a projected timeline?" 

Scoffing ever so slightly at the dismissal, Mirage shook his helm. "I did not say I disapproved, just that I did not understand," he countered easily. "He did not give me a timeline. He simply told me to tell you to be ready."

"That is rather vague."

Mirage shrugged, "That is Jazz. Surely, you have encountered his unusual style of working by now?" 

"It could be said that his methods are unorthodox, I would not have described him as vague, however," Prowl glanced at Mirage and took this unexpected opportunity to learn more about the mysterious special ops mech that had gripped his spark. "Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what else I should expect while working with him?"

"It does depend on his persona while undercover," Mirage explained. "As a superior officer he can be, shall we say, eccentric and much more laid back than the types I'm used to working with. A preferable outcome," he added. " You do not need to be concerned, I have never met a more dedicated agent. He will get the job done and if he is telling you to be ready then I suggest you do exactly that."

Venting a sigh, Prowl sipped his energon, "As usual, I am left waiting for Jazz," he muttered somewhat perturbed, not only on a professional level - be ready without clear direction nor a timeline could mean anything - but on a personal level too. He only had himself to blame. If he felt like he was on the back foot playing catchup in this… relationship if it could be called that, then Prowl had put himself there. How had he allowed himself to become so involved? Prowl felt his spark aching again more intensely this time. 'Get a hold of yourself,' he demanded silently. 

"If Jazz is making you wait then it is for good reason," Mirage replied, unaware of Prowl's internal struggle. "You will know when to act, he will make sure of it. He does not make a habit of not following through with his plans." 

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, I am sure this will all be resolved soon enough," Prowl responded tersely as he got to his feet, attempting to ignore the throbbing of his spark. It was just worrying and fear that his secret relationship was going to end, raising his stress levels, making him feel nauseated. That was all it was, all it could be he was certain of it. It would pass. "Have a safe trip back to Iacon." 

"Thank you," Mirage stood as well, canting his helm at the sudden dismissal. Prowl was an odd mech; he could see why Jazz had enjoyed working with him; he wasn't very good at hiding his emotions from his field however and seemed visibly upset. He had been expecting Jazz, after all, Mirage mused to himself. He wondered what it was exactly that bothered him so, perhaps it was Jazz's absence? 'Must've been working very closely to be so concerned over an Iaconi agent he's only known for a vorn.' he thought to himself. He watched Prowl leave for a klik before turning and heading further into the gardens to explore. Sudden alarmed cries behind him drew his attention and he looked back with a frown. A mech had stumbled and collapsed, drawing a crowd of concerned citizens. Instantly mentally on duty, he rushed over to help and as he crouched down beside the prone Praxian was stunned to find that the mech on the ground was none other than Detective Prowl. 


	4. Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case ends and Prowl finds himself at odds with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles
> 
> Still a bit timey-wimey, bear with me.

**Present Cycle - 10 solar cycles after Prowl's second interview.**

It had taken a lot of data pad work and tying up of legal loose ends but the case had finally been wrapped up. Diode, the largest terrorist organisation in Praxus history, had finally been brought to justice. 

The Lord Commandant of Praxus stood proudly on the podium declaring the city safe once more to the exuberant cheers of his citizens. To his right, waited the Enforcer Commissioner who oversaw all of Praxus enforcer districts and was Prowl's direct superior officer. Prowl waited patiently behind her, stood to attention with his task force leaders lined up behind him. He wasn't personally fond of these public addresses but they served their purpose both politically and socially. He spotted Jazz leaning against the wall of the building across the plaza. He blended into the crowd easily and was no longer sporting any disguise. He had refused any sort of recognition from the Lord Commandant and had ordered the mech not to mention any involvement from Iacon. Jazz's case was now just beginning and the less was publicly known about Diode's link to Kaon, the better. Jazz had come to support Prowl in his closing of this case, much to Prowl's humble embarrassment and had not taken no for an answer. 

"We owe a debt of gratitude to the brave Cybertronians who serve us every cycle. Detective Inspector Prowl and his hand picked task force worked tirelessly to bring these criminals to justice and to make Praxus a safe haven for us all once more," the Lord Commandant turned and graciously gestured to Prowl and his team. On cue, Prowl and his enforcers took a step forward and saluted while the Lord Commandant led the crowd in their applause. "It is with a heavy spark then that I must also announce that our Detective Prowl will be leaving us at the end of the vorn. His dedication and vorns of service have caught the optic of none other than Optimus Prime himself. He will be relocating to Iacon to continue to serve us all as Prime's Chief Strategist!" 

Prowl flinched a little uncomfortably as the cheers and applause crescendoed at the announcement. Of course, the Lord Commandant would bring this up here and now. What would make Praxians prouder than knowing one of their own would be working directly with the Prime. Praxians rarely ventured beyond Praxus, only a few had done so and none to such an esteemed position. This would look favourably for the Lord Commandant who would see him as a link to Prime, a political winch giving him an advantage over his political opponents. Even if he was determined to be nothing of the sort. Prowl simply bowed graciously in thanks, not one to stand on ceremony and silently hoped he wouldn't be quite so connected to the political aspects of command when he started his new job. 

The address went on for a little longer than was bearable for Prowl's liking but once it was over he was actually looking forward to the political soiree that the Lord Commandant had arranged for Praxus' district governors and selected enforcers. His excited anticipation revolved solely around Jazz being invited as an honoured guest. Getting to mingle with the mech socially and not in secret, very much appealed to him.

****

**Later that cycle**

Prowl had had to attend such 'parties' in the past. Everything in Praxus revolved around politics and networking with your peers to get yourself noticed and promoted. Prowl was no stranger to putting himself out there and politically maneuvering his way up the career ladder. His skills had put him in good stead of course but his abilities to navigate political faux pas and work well with the elected leaders of Praxus had certainly helped elevate his status and get him the promotions his ambitions required. It had been the best possible route to get to work for the Prime which was what Prowl had wanted all along. One final political party would not hurt. Jazz had reassured him that Prime usually attended such events in Iacon and that his staff were rarely called upon, it gave Prowl some relief about his new position. 

"Detective Prowl, you've arrived, good. The Lord Commandant has been expecting you, he wants to introduce you to someone."

"Commissioner, who does he want me to meet given that I am soon leaving Praxus?" Prowl fell into step beside his superior as they navigated through the grand hall of the Lord Commandant's official residence. 

"It is one of Prime's commanders," the larger Praxian stated simply. "You know the one who you met when he came to headquarters upon the official closing of the Diode case."

"Commander Jazz?" Prowl was confused. "We have already met, I don't understand." 

The Commissioner smirked and gave Prowl a knowing look. "You know how the Lord is. Given your promotion to the Prime's command, he's making sure Commander Jazz knows he knows you to give him some sort of levy or to imply that Iacon and Praxus must work more closely now," she waved a hand dismissively. "We're all pieces on his strategy board, you would do well to remember that Detective."

Prowl vented a sigh, "I will not be his tool nor his audio to Prime." He stopped when the Commissioner placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Nor would I expect you to be, Prowl but for the sake of appearances and us poor sparks you leave behind, humour him for me would you?" 

Relaxing a fraction and matching his Commander's smile he nodded, "I can do that, Commissioner." 

"Call me Lightwave, I'm not your commander anymore," she turned and led the way through the mingling crowds. "You're going to be missed here, Prowl you sure Streetstar is up to the pressure?" 

"Yes Comman--ah, Lightwave," Prowl held his sensor panels higher. "He is a fine enforcer and I would not have recommended him as my replacement if I didn't think he could handle it." 

"You're proud of the mech," Lightwave smiled. 

Ducking his helm slightly sheepishly, Prowl didn't deny it, "I oversaw most of his training, he's worked extremely hard for this, he will make you proud too." 

"Just as you have, Prowl," Lightwave stopped and waited for the Lord Commandant to address them. "Now remember that and be nice, for my sake," the femme hissed. "And I'll send you some Praxian high grade when you've settled in Iacon."

"Ah Commissioner Lightwave, Detective Prowl so glad you can join us. Let me introduce Commander Jazz of Iacon, Prime's executive officer.

Prowl resisted the urge to smile when Jazz turned around from where he was helping himself to the goody tray and gave them a casual wave. 

"Just Jazz is fine, my mechs, it's a pleasure," he smiled broadly, greeting them both in traditional Praxian, his optics - hidden by his visor - lingered on Prowl and that spark jolting gaze the detective’s ice blue optics pinned on him. 

Lightwave spoke first, "Commander Jazz, I believe you already met Detective Prowl at his precinct earlier this cycle. He is to join you in Iacon quite soon as you know. I had half a processor to try and keep him here, but I would have hated the pouting," she threw Prowl a warm smirk. "Our loss is definitely Iacon's gain."

"Pouting huh?" Jazz grinned with a mischievous glint in his optics as though he had just uncovered a delightful secret. 

"My Commissioner exaggerates, of course," Prowl responded with a small smile of his own. "It has been a well-known ambition of mine to work in Iacon for Prime's command for quite some time."

“Glad to hear it,” the Lord Commandant interjected with all the ease of a snake slipping through crystal branches. “Detective Prowl will be an asset and I hope will help bridge the link between our two states, making us both stronger,” he smiled broadly at Jazz. 

“That won’t really be his job, my Lord,” Jazz pointed out diplomatically. “Prowl is to be our Chief Strategist and Head of Prime’s Tactical Division, he won’t actually be involved in many interstate affairs. He will be busy enough as it is, I can guarantee it,” he added with a soft chuckle. 

“Ah yes, but as the sole Praxian serving in Prime’s command, I’m sure Optimus can make an exception here and there. Prowl’s representation is very important to Praxus and its citizens. Especially if we are to be allies.”

“Allies against whom?” Commissioner Lightwave asked as casually as possible while nibbling a goody. “Is there a treaty being negotiated, Sir? Surely all of the city’s officials should be here to meet Jazz then if that is the intention?” 

Prowl managed to disguise his smirk as he took a quick sip of the drink he had managed to procure from one of the serving staff. Lightwave had always had a way of cutting straight through anybody’s slag. It was something he had admired about her ever since he had come to know her. He had been most pleased that she had taken oversight of his training and mentored him early in his enforcer career. He cast a subtle glance at Jazz who was watching the conversation with unrestrained delight as the Lord Commandant squirmed at the Commissioner’s questions.

Catching Prowl’s optics, Jazz’s smile softened and he moved easily around the two mechs to engage Prowl in conversation. “Are you looking forward to your transfer, Detective?” Jazz grinned playfully as he kept up formal appearances. 

“Please, Prowl is fine, I will not be a Detective after next cycle,” he replied graciously. “And yes, I am quite excited for this change, I have wanted it for a long time.”

“That, I had no idea about,” Jazz canted his helm curiously. “Why Prime’s command?”

Prowl thought for a klik, “I’m not sure really but I think when I was young, there was a Praxian who left Praxus and joined our moonbase project. They were the first Praxian to join the space initiative and they were all over the media streams. With their publicity, they spearheaded so many movements for science programs and education programs in Praxus schools and helped us progress technologically as a city. I admired them a great deal and I wanted to contribute to my city in a similar way, they inspired me to look beyond our city. If one can do it then we all can. Praxus can sometimes be somewhat…”

“Stifling?”

“Narrow-processered,” Prowl smiled gratefully at Jazz’s attempt to soften the view he knew many held of Praxians. They were considered isolationist, inflexible and not open to progressive change. He wanted to help change that viewpoint. 

“I remember that mech, aptly called Astro if I recall correctly,” Jazz responded. “They were interesting to talk to, some great ideas though. Still lives in Iacon I think.”

“You met them?” Prowl was shocked, he hadn’t thought that Jazz was that much older than him.

“Yeah, I was on security detail for the Moonbase Project in the Elite Guard. My first posting actually,” Jazz smiled. “I haven’t always been a spy.”

“Commander Jazz!” the Lord Commandant interrupted with barely a passing glance in Prowl’s direction. “Come let me introduce you to our trade minister, he has some ideas to boost the trade routes between Iacon and Praxus.”

Jazz had no chance to refuse as the Lord Commandant led him away. He cast an apologetic look back at Prowl who gave him an understanding smile. 

“It’s cool you’re going to be working with him.”

Prowl cast a sidelong look at Streetstar who seemed to be enjoying himself. “Who Commander Jazz?”

“Yes! When he came to the precinct earlier this cycle, he was so… charming and funny, you would never have guessed he was one of Prime’s top mechs,” he gushed enthusiastically. 

“Why? Are they not supposed to be funny?” Prowl asked somewhat dryly. 

Streetstar just laughed and gently pushed Prowl’s arm. “You know what I mean, Sir. I just thought he’d be more serious, like you,” he looked at Prowl sharply. “Not that that is a bad thing!” he added hastily.

Prowl chuckled and ducked his helm, “It’s quite alright, Streetstar, I am well aware of how I can be perceived.”

“Oh but it mostly isn’t negative, Sir, you must know that,” Streetstar continued his field rippling with apology. 

“Streetstar, relax, I am not offended. How are you feeling about your promotion?” he asked, changing the subject. 

Beaming, Streetstar’s sensor panels fluttered. “Overwhelmed, I had no idea you were going to recommend me for the position. I will never be able to replace you, I’m not even sure how I would start.”

“Don’t try,” Prowl advised simply. “Be your own mech, you are a Detective in your own right, I have every faith you will do well in the position. I wouldn’t have recommended you otherwise.”

“Thank you, Sir, I will do my best to do you proud.”

Prowl smiled as their conversation echoed the one he had had with Lightwave upon his arrival, “You already have, Streetstar. I expect to be kept up to date on the goings-on, however,” he added mischievously. 

Streetstar huffed a laugh, “I’ll be sending deca cycle gossip reports, Sir, don’t you worry.”

“Knew I could count on you.”

****

The rest of the party was as typical as Prowl had expected. He chatted with his enforcers and his former commissioner who all expressed their feelings about him leaving. It was certainly nice to be wanted and Prowl knew he would miss his team and his position. He had friends and a life here in Praxus. He was taking a big risk leaving it all for Iacon, he knew that. Nothing worth having came without risk though and he wasn’t going to let fear stop him. 

As the dark cycle dragged on, he found himself nursing a glass of mid-grade as he listened to a group of enforcers chatting about work. His optics drifted over to where Jazz was occupied with the Lord Commandant as he had been all evening. Prowl had been foolish to get his expectations up, even here Jazz had to work, of course, he did yet Prowl couldn’t help the swell of disappointment he felt at being unable to spend time with the mech in a casual setting such as this one. Was this what he had to look forward to? At least in Iacon things would be easier, would be simpler without having to keep everything a secret. At least he hoped so. 

He gazed over at Jazz who caught his optic and gave a subtle nod before his attentions were drawn away once more. Prowl managed a small smile back which went unnoticed and his hand brushed absently over his chest as he contemplated the huge changes coming his way. Feeling suddenly tired and fed up, Prowl excused himself from the party politely, said goodbye to his friends and colleagues and headed home. 

His apartment wasn’t far. Unlocking his door he stepped inside and vented a sigh of relief. His sensor panels rose up sharply on his back as he picked up the field of another.

“Hello Prowler, about time you got home.”

Prowl stared in disbelief at the blue and red mech smirking at him as he exited the wash rack. “Smokescreen, you’re here, why are you here?”

“What, you think I get a message telling me how worried you are and how there are things going on in your life that you don’t think you’re ready for and it’s all gotten out of hand and you don’t have anyone you can talk to. My in control Prowl sounding like he’s about to blow a gasket? How could I not be here?” Smokescreen’s sensor panels lowered as he picked up the growing distress in Prowl’s field and he cleared the room and grasped Prowl’s arms. “I know we didn’t end on a great note the last time we saw each other but, Primus Prowl, I’m always going to be here for you,” he pulled away slightly and grinned at him unashamedly, “You’ll always be my little brother.” 

Prowl’s optics dimmed as his disappointments and fears all came spilling to the fore dragging out a soft keen from his vocaliser, “Oh Smokescreen, I’m scared that I’ve made a terrible mistake.” He allowed his brother to tug him into a tight concerned hug as everything he had been worrying about bubbled to the surface. 


	5. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl develops some anxieties for his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles  
> Groon - an hour (approx 83 minutes)

**1 Solar Cycle after the first spark merge.**

**A cycle after meeting Mirage.**

Prowl onlined slowly, his audio booting up first. He could hear the beeping of monitors and little all else. He was lying in a berth that was adequate but it wasn’t the nest of cushions and soft padding he was accustomed to. Onlining his optics he turned his helm to the light streaming in through the window on his left. 

The blue glow told him that it was early in the cycle but that didn’t make sense. Craning his helm he peered around the spartan room, how had he ended up in hospital? The last thing he remembered was heading back to his precinct after meeting Mirage and then there had been a terrible pain in his chest. He gasped as he recalled and a hand shot up and clutched his chest as his intakes hitched. The monitors attached to him started beeping more rapidly as his concern grew. What was wrong with him? Had he been more injured than he had thought? He wanted answers and he wanted them last cycle. He accessed his personal internal comm and sent a query to his personal medic. She responded immediately and announced that she was on her way. She was already aware of the situation. Prowl frowned, just how long had he been here?

Moments later, Prowl assumed she had already been in the hospital, Dr Iatric appeared and gave him a smile. “How are you feeling, Detective?” she asked cheerfully as she picked up the datapad with his notes. 

“Confused, concerned,” Prowl responded stiffly. He hated being sick or injured in any way, it made him feel especially vulnerable which he did not enjoy. Not knowing what was going on, however, felt much worse to him. “What happened?”

“You collapsed,” Iatric replied obviously. “Spark stress due to an excess drain on your spark’s corona that you weren’t properly fuelled for.”

Prowl’s optics brightened in alarm as Iatric came to stand beside his berth so he could see her better and helped him sit up. “My spark? Is it from my injuries in the explosion? Will it get worse?” 

Iatric canted her helm, her smile fading, “No not at all, Prowl you’re carrying. The drain was due to the sparklet growing,” she frowned sympathetically. “You didn’t know.”

“It… it shouldn’t be possible,” Prowl stammered, unable to believe what she was telling him. “As an enforcer I have an implanted inhibitor…” he trailed off as realisation slowly dawned on him. 

“I can confirm from your notes that it was damaged and had to be removed after the explosion,” Iatric declared. “You weren’t informed by the surgeon?”

“No, I had no idea.”

Iatric sighed and placed a hand on Prowl’s shoulder, “I am sorry, I will make sure that this oversight is investigated and the surgeon retrained on the imparting of all pertinent diagnosis.” She sat on the edge of Prowl’s berth. “As this is an unexpected sparking, I have to ask what you want to do next.”

“What do I want to do?”

“Yes, I know you’re not bonded but I have no knowledge of the co-creator’s situation in this and that is your private business,” Iatric continued gently. “You have options. There are safe procedures in the dissolution of new sparklets if carrying isn’t wanted nor safe. I am qualified in both these procedures and in guiding new creators in sparkling care pre and post-separation.”

“I see…” Prowl shook his helm. “I, I don’t know. I need some time and to speak with someone,” he frowned knowing there was no way he could get a hold of Jazz. 

“Is there anybody you’d like me to call?” the femme asked kindly. “The mech that brought you in left his details for you to contact him when you were recovered, he seemed quite concerned.” 

“The mech that brought me?”

“Yes, Mirage I think his name was.”

Prowl looked up and nodded. “Please send him a message. Tell him I need to speak to his superior urgently?”

“Do you want me to say why?”

Hesitating for a klik, Prowl’s optics dimmed and he shook his helm mutely. 

“Alright, I have left some fuel here for you,” she gestured to the table beside his berth. “And you have my comm. I want you to come see me when you’re ready at my office and we can discuss where to go from here.”

“Is there a timeline, or a… a cut-off point?”

Iatric hummed thoughtfully, “Generally carrying lasts about a vorn, so if I haven’t heard from you in a couple of solar cycles I’ll be calling you, okay?”

“Yes, thank you, Dr.” 

Iatric headed for the door, “The hospital will be releasing you by the end of the cycle. Try to rest, Prowl, you can take a few cycles off work. Doctor’s orders.” She left, knowing very well her patient would likely disregard her advice as he so often had in the past.

****

**Later that cycle**

Prowl frowned at the case files in front of him. He had felt ready to return to work but upon his arrival there and following the worried questions of his colleagues that he had been unable and unwilling to answer, he had come home. Not without bringing the case files home with him though. A distraction was desperately needed. Anything that stopped him from thinking about Jazz and the news of his sparkling.

As with all things that seemed to be happening at the moment, it did not go quite according to plan. After only a groon, Prowl had read half of one file, three times. The same half, before he had given up. Now he sat on his sofa, huddled in a blanket, glaring at the files accusingly. They and their promise of distraction had failed him. 

There was a life growing inside of him and he truly didn’t know how he felt about that. A creator, he was a creator, no matter what decision he made from this point. How was Jazz going to react? Surely he hadn’t been planning on sparklings, at least not this soon. It was at that point that Prowl realised he had no idea what Jazz’s plans were. He was an outlier and had only been brought to Praxus for a case. Granted Prowl had plans to move to Iacon if he got the new job working for Prime but Jazz had his whole life there. A million thoughts of what ifs whirled around his processor. How could he have been so reckless and unprepared? If Jazz had any sense, he would get Mirage’s message and disappear. The thought of the mech actually doing that though made Prowl’s spark ache. No part of him wanted to believe that Jazz would just abandon him and his responsibilities upon discovering there was now a sparkling involved but it only highlighted the fact that Prowl didn’t really know Jazz. The doubt and the anxiety gripped his spark and he whined with frustration. He needed some advice or at least somebody to talk to that he could trust with a secret this huge. Peeling himself off his sofa, blanket still tightly wrapped around him, Prowl headed to his room to grab his communication tablet. Shuffling back to his living area, he flopped on the sofa and began writing out a communique. 

He had not spoken to his wayward brother in some time but despite their differences, Prowl knew he could tell him what was going on and ask for his advice. He had gotten himself into much trouble over the vorns and seemed adept at sorting himself out regardless. If any bot could help him or ease the worry curling about his processor, it would be Smokescreen. Given that they had fought the last time they had spoken, due to Smokescreen’s frivolous spending, Prowl didn’t really have any expectations that Smokescreen would even respond. It helped focus his thoughts though as he wrote them out and that in itself was calming him down somewhat. 

“Dear Smokescreen,”

Prowl paused, unsure how to proceed. It had been three vorns since they had spoken. Did he need to go into inane pleasantries? Sighing, he deleted his first line and rewrote, a little pleasantry never hurt, especially when it came to Smokescreen. 

“How are you? I am aware it has been a while, I apologise for my distance, it was not wholly intentional. I was not sure if you would even want to hear from me but there have been some developments and I find myself unable to speak to anyone about them. I am afraid, no rather concerned that I have made some recent questionable decisions and I am in need of some advice…”

****

**Present**

**After the party.**

Prowl found himself sat on his sofa while Smokescreen paced in front of him, his field shimmering with confused annoyance and quiet excitement. “I honestly did not expect you to even reply, never mind turn up at my door,” he stated casually, sipping some warmed energon Smokescreen had made for him. 

“Did not expect… Prowl I may be an aft sometimes but I’m still your brother, why wouldn’t I come if I thought you were in trouble?”

“It’s just,” Prowl paused, not wanting to hurt Smokescreen’s feelings, after all he had shown up. “I sent the letter almost a vorn ago, when I first found out and I heard nothing back so I just assumed. Plus things sort of got better.”

“Just assumed,” Smokescreen clicked in admonishment and shook his helm. “That’s just like you, Prowl, you don’t hear back right away and you assume that you somehow ceased mattering to them. It’s frustrating having to convince you every time I see you that you matter to me. I’m not our creators.”

Prowl’s mouth turned down at the corners and he looked away. “I never said you were,” he replied quietly, not wanting to have that same argument again.

“For that matter, are you maybe just assuming all this stuff you’re worrying about with this Jazz?” Smokescreen suggested, coming to sit beside Prowl. “You know what you get like when you get stuck on a thought or a worry.” 

“I do realise that given the huge life changes I am going through and about to go through are quite likely exacerbating my emotional state but it is a very real concern that I do not know this mech all that well and what if,” he trailed off and swirled his drink gently. 

“What if he realises this isn’t what he wants when he goes back to his real life?” Smokescreen prompted sympathetically. 

“Precisely. Jazz has been undercover this whole time in Praxus. I am under no delusions that this is not what Jazz is really like, I have no idea what his life is like, we have only briefly talked about it. He is not forthcoming. It is that that worries me,” Prowl met Smokescreen’s gaze, “I don’t want this sparkling to suffer and be a secret his whole life, never being allowed to greet one of his creators in public, not to mention the strain this will add to our working environment. Keeping a sparkling a secret cannot be an easy task,” he sighed. “This is not how I wanted to start a family.”

Smokescreen smiled faintly and nudged Prowl, “I didn’t even know you wanted to start a family.” 

Smiling a little himself, Prowl huffed a soft laugh, “It was on my list.” 

“Oh of course,” Smokescreen teased. “Can’t forget your list. You’ve always had lists, you know life isn’t that easy to control right?”

“I am aware, it won’t stop me from trying though,” Prowl responded dryly. 

“Well if anyone can be remotely successful, I would put credits on you,” Smokescreen grinned. 

The brothers shared a laugh and began reminiscing about their youngling days. It was nice having Smokescreen there and things feeling as they once had between them. 

Their nostalgia was broken when Prowl’s front door made a soft clicking sound and quietly creaked open. Smokescreen was immediately on his feet, sensor panels flared out aggressively.

“Who th’ frag are you?” Jazz uttered mildly bewildered and immediately on the defensive as he came face to face with the angry Praxian. 

“You’re the one breaking in and I’m the one being interrogated?” Smokescreen glanced over his shoulder at Prowl who hadn’t moved. He was quite used to Jazz’s unorthodox ways of visiting by now. “This is Jazz?” at Prowl’s nod, Smokescreen turned back to regard the black and white mech with disdain. “So you’re the one who thinks he can spark up my little brother and then run off back to Iacon?”

“Smokescreen,” Prowl groaned and covered his face with his hand. “It’s not like that.”

“I come back to you all upset, it sure as slag looks like that to me.”

“I’ve already explained that.”

Jazz watched the interaction with growing bemusement and folded his arms after closing the door. “Prowler, you didn’t tell me you had a brother.”

“Prowler, he calls you Prowler?” Smokescreen huffed his plating flaring even more. “And you never told him about me?”

Prowl had the grace to look mildly sheepish. “It never came up?” he admitted. 

“I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one?” Smokescreen retorted with growing exasperation. “Do you know anything about each other?”

“Hey, brother or not, lay off him, he doesn’t need you yelling at him,” Jazz interjected, moving into Smokescreen’s space. 

Smokescreen growled softly, “You can’t tell me how to speak to my own brother and you better back off before I make you back off,” he squared up to Jazz, aggression surging through his field. 

Jazz’s face broke into a wide cat-like grin, “Oh my mech, I would love for you to try.” 

“Just stop!” Prowl hollered out suddenly, standing up from the sofa. “Yes, Jazz, I have a brother. I haven’t told you about him because he literally never came up, just like much of our lives haven’t. Now we get to bring our sparkling into this void that we know nothing about because we rushed into something without fully thinking through the consequences. When I first discovered I was sparked I panicked and I wrote to Smokescreen as he was the only one I could tell this Primus damned secret too without ruining both our reputations and our careers, not to mention the city-wide case we were working on! He has much right to be here as you do and I would appreciate it if you didn’t dismember him for doing as brothers do and embarrassing the spark out of you. Smokescreen, if you would listen for one klik you would know that Jazz has made no indication of abandoning the sparkling nor his responsibilities. He has actually made every effort to the contrary. Stop thinking I need you to protect me when all I wanted was some bot to talk to, to be there without worrying I was destroying not only my life but Jazz’s as well. But thank you for blowing this out of proportion and once again making things all about you! Both of you get a grip or I will put you both on the floor handcuff you together and leave you there to rot!” Trying to calm himself down, his sensor panels high on his back, Prowl jabbed a finger at them both. “Now I am going to bathe and I don’t want to hear another squeak out of either of you.” Prowl stared at them for a long moment before marching into his washrack and slamming the door behind him. 

Jazz and Smokescreen shared a glance and ducked their helms contritely. Smokescreen’s sensor panels dropped low on his back and he absently shuffled his feet. “Look I uh… I’m sorry for getting all up in your grill…” he started quietly.

“Nah, I’m sorry, I did break in, you had every right, he is your brother,” Jazz countered. “He uh, he’s really mad huh?” 

“Yeah, he’s not shouted at me like that for about 4 vorns,” Smokescreen smirked. “Glad to see he’s still got it in him.”

“Huh, I didn’t even realise Prowl ever lost his cool,” Jazz admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Frag, he’s totally right and he’s been trying to tell me all this time. I’m such an aft.”

“From where I’m standing, it kinda takes both of you to be a bit obtuse to let it get this far without having a proper serious sit-down chat about the future,” Smokescreen replied, eyeing Jazz curiously as the mech’s field shimmered with concern and regret. “You still got time for that though,” he added hopefully. 

“We do, yeah and we will,” Jazz agreed with a nod. “Because I want a future, with him, if he can put up with me.” 

Grinning at that, Smokescreen slapped Jazz on the back. “Good to know, I don’t have to kill you then. High grade?”

“Would love some,” Jazz followed Smokescreen to the kitchenette area and sat on one of the stools. “You do know that you probably couldn’t though right?”

“What, kill you?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably not,” Smokescreen smirked as he poured Jazz a small drink. “But you would likely kill me for trying and then Prowl would have to finish the job I started on you.”

Jazz pulled a face, “Mech, that’s twisted.”

Laughing, Smokescreen poured out his own drink. “I’ve been called worse, by Prowl as a matter of fact. Pretty sure he’s threatened to kill me before too, so you would likely come out on top regardless, who am I kidding.”

“I think I’m starting to like you,” Jazz mused aloud as he sipped his high grade.


	6. Introspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz thinks about what this all means on his journey back to Iacon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles  
> Groon - an hour (approx 83 minutes)

**The Next Cycle.**

“Do you really have to go now?” Prowl asked with a frown, his hand absently rubbing his chest. “Dr Iatric has scheduled me for separation in four cycles.” 

“I know and I will be here, Prowl, I promise,” Jazz took hold of Prowl’s hands and kissed his fingers sweetly. “Smokes’ said he’s going to stay with you until I get back, he even mentioned helping you move.” 

Prowl ‘hmm’d’ and gave Jazz a knowing look, “No doubt your suggestion.” 

“He wants to help,” Jazz insisted innocently. 

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with you using your influence to make it less than worth his while to leave,” Prowl was not naive as to his brother’s predilections and Smokescreen rarely did anything without reason. “I am grateful, it will be nice to have his company once again,” he added sincerely. “He does not like sparklings, though.” 

Jazz chuckled, “There’s no worry there, I’ll be back for the separation, Prowl. I’m not just going to leave you, that’s not who I am, surely you know me well enough by now?” 

Dropping his gaze, Prowl sighed, his sensor panels twitching, “My insecurities would say otherwise but I have no experience with this kind of situation, you understand my concerns.”

“I do and I’m glad you finally told me, you shouldn’t have been keeping all this bottled up, Prowl, can’t be healthy. You have to trust me.”

Venting deeply, Prowl nodded. “I shall see you in two cycles then.” 

“Yep, straight to Iacon, give my report, get me leave, come straight back and then I can help you move too.”

“Optimus Prime arranged for a mover transport and an apartment for me,” Prowl explained. “I didn’t want to put you out.”

“An apartment?” Jazz shook his helm. “No, you’re coming to live with me. My place is big enough for all three of us.”

“Jazz I don--”

“--Prowl, we’re about to start a family.”

“While keeping it secret from everyone and anyone you know and work with.”

“Yes, which is why it makes sense for you to live with me. We can’t be a family and keep it discrete from two separate apartments.” 

Holding Jazz’s earnest gaze, Prowl finally relented. “Alright.” 

Jazz beamed, “I’ll organise for different movers and get them to go to my place for next cycle. Be packed up.” 

“You know I will be.” 

Gently tugging Prowl closer, Jazz smiled fondly and cupped Prowl’s face, his thumb running along the line of his jaw. “I’ll miss you,” he pressed a chaste kiss to Prowl’s lips. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured against the pliable metal, leaning in for a deeper, more tender kiss. 

Reluctantly the two mechs parted after a few kliks and Jazz gave Prowl one last smile before he turned and headed out of his apartment to his waiting transport to Iacon. Prowl stayed where he was until he heard the door close and then ventured to the window of his berth room and watched the other black and white step into the transport and accelerate towards the highway out of the city. His sensor panels twitched when he felt movement behind him. His gaze didn’t waver from the window when a comforting arm curled about his shoulders. With little prompting, he sighed and rested his helm on his brother’s shoulder as they watched the transport vanish into the Praxus traffic. 

“It’s going to be alright, Prowl.” Smokescreen reassured softly. 

Prowl wished he could be so confident. 

****

**Half a Cycle Later on the Transport to Iacon**

Jazz watched the landscape change from crystalline to desolate as they left the region of Praxus. For half the journey he had recharged, if fitfully. He hadn’t had much chance to rest the last few cycles. His processor was buzzing with all the thoughts of the case and of Prowl and now this sparkling whirling around. It was all he had been able to think about. He had always known that he would’ve liked to have sparklings some cycle but this, this had come from left field and knocked him sideways. 

Sitting in his private booth, he removed his visor and rubbed his optics, his gaze drifting to the window to stare out across the landscape. There was nothing between Iacon and Praxus, yet it was still beautiful in its desolation. It was mostly inhospitable to mecha which was why Praxus was such an isolated city state. To work on this case had been a dream come true. Jazz was widely travelled but Praxus had been on his to visit list for a long time. Praxians were practically a myth. He had come to love the city and its citizens. His thoughts drifted to one Praxian in particular, Prowl. The unusual, stuffy and yet remarkably brilliant, intelligent and fiercely dedicated Prowl. The mech had stalled his intakes when he’d first laid optics on him and then he had heard him speak. Jazz’s audio were more sensitive than most and Prowl just had this unique cadence to his voice that left Jazz wanting. Mechs talk about love at first sight but for Jazz it had been at first sound. He could listen to Prowl recite the Iacon library of taxes and yet he had never intended for things to go so far. To get involved so deeply. Pinching his nasal bridge, Jazz sighed and rested his helm against the cool window. It was just going to be a fling, an on the job stress relief. Prowl’s application to work in Iacon had scuppered that plan. He could, of course, had told Prime not to choose Prowl but the truth was he was the best mech for the job and Jazz wanted the best mech in the post. Offlining his optics, he thought about how complicated things had become in such a short time and how much more complicated they were going to be from now on.

No mech could know. For the sake of their careers and reputations, nobody could know. Was living in secret, living a lie? Jazz was familiar with living a lie, it was what he did best, it was his job and he was very good at it. It wasn’t fair to Prowl though, the mech deserved more. Though Jazz couldn’t bring himself to cut the mech loose nor had he asked for Prowl to abort the sparkling despite that being the most logical decision. 

He grimaced when he recalled Prowl’s infallible logical arguments, the mech had given him a way out on a platter. Had he done the right thing? Prowl had been prepared to end it all, let him go. It was Jazz who had fought him, fought for him for reasons he couldn’t explain then and he was still struggling to explain now. 

****

**Three cycles after meeting Mirage**

Prowl stirred and turned in his berth, lifting up to flatten out his sensor panels behind him so he could lie comfortably on his back. Optics dim, he ran a finger over his chevron, rubbing it lightly a soft sigh escaping his lips. Then he heard the click. Optics brightening, Prowl went very still and listened. The soft scrape was the trigger to make him reach for his weapon and slowly get out of the berth as silently as he could. His apartment was pitch black and it was late into the dark cycle. Pressing against the wall beside the door to his berth room, Prowl waited, his sensor panels picking up the faint disturbance of the air in the living area as somebody moved silently through the room. Pressing his lips into a hard line, Prowl drew his weapon and flared his lights to their full brightness. “Freeze! Enforcer!” he hollered, his gun pointed at the shadowy figure. 

“Whoa! Prowler!” the shadow held up its hands and a band of blue lit up across the mech’s helm. “It’s me. Don’t shoot.”

Lowering his weapon, Prowl stared at the mech. “Jazz?” he activated the lights and glared at the mech standing sheepishly in his living area. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded hotly. “Breaking into an enforcer’s apartment like that. I could have shot you!” he declared, his voice taking on a shrill note at the end. 

Grimacing, Jazz nodded. “I know but I had to come and I couldn’t risk being seen,” he offered with a small voice. “I had to see you. I got Mirage’s message, he said you collapsed and that he had gotten a message from the hospital saying you needed to talk to me. I thought the worst.” 

Shaking his helm, Prowl placed his weapon on the counter and rubbed his face tiredly. “You could have just called.”

“I got the feeling it was something important,” Jazz ventured into Prowl’s space, pressing up against his back, burying his face into the crook of Prowl’s neck. “I was worried about you.” 

Turning in Jazz’s arms, Prowl studied the mech’s face closely, noticing the drawn expression and the tight smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I should have let you focus on the job.”

Bringing a hand up to cup Prowl’s face, Jazz forced him to meet his gaze. “I still would have been worried about the collapsing. Mechs don’t collapse for no reason. For all I know these terrorists could have got to you, they do consider you their biggest threat you know.”

“They do?”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh,” Prowl paused, considering that information for a moment. “I’m not sure whether to feel flattered or concerned.”

A grin tugged at Jazz’s mouth. “Probably a bit of both. So you going to tell me what’s going on, if it isn’t them?”

Meeting Jazz’s gaze for a long moment, Prowl hesitated, then lowered his optics with a frown. “You should probably sit down.” 

Jazz took a step back, “So we’re having the talk,” he let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I mean, it’s probably for the best,” he started before Prowl could interrupt.

“Jazz…”

“Not sure what we were thinking right?”

“Jazz…”

“Getting involved while on the case, talk about conflict of interests!” Jazz rubbed his helm feeling somewhat nervous at the knowledge that Prowl was ending things. He hadn’t expected that. 

“Jazz!” 

“What? I know what you’re going to say, Prowl so just get it over with already, stop dragging it out.”

“I’m sparked,” Prowl bit out with mild exasperation before adding softly, “It’s yours.”

Jazz stopped. His visor was overly bright and his mouth was parted and unmoving as he tilted his helm and tried to form words that wouldn’t come. 

“Jazz?”

“Huh,” the visored mech managed to utter. “You were right,” he muttered. “I probably should have sat down.” 

Prowl rushed to Jazz’s side as the mech’s legs gave out beneath him and gently coerced him to the sofa seat. Jazz sat heavily and just stared into space. “Sparked?”

“Yes, Jazz.” 

“You’re sure?” he asked, finally looking up at Prowl. 

Giving him a muted nod, Prowl empathised with some of what Jazz was feeling and he sat down slowly beside Jazz, optics fixed on the mech, studying his reactions as he waited for the shock to subside.

****

Jazz had his legs crossed on the sofa seat as he watched Prowl warm some energon in the kitchenette. The mech seemed so in control and calm nobody would think to look at him that he had been given life-changing news only a couple of cycles earlier. A sparkling, that was big. Maybe too big. He hadn’t intended on falling so hard, so stupidly fast, he was better than this. Meeting Prowl though, it had done a number on his processor, he had never found himself so drawn to a mech before. A mech that was simultaneously infuriating and alluring. 

“How are you feeling?” Prowl asked as he returned to the sofa and handed Jazz a cube. 

“Still a bit blind-sided,” Jazz admitted. “I thought enforcers were fitted with an inhibitor?” he queried, unable to meet Prowl’s gaze.

“We are. It was damaged in the explosion I was caught in. The doctor who treated me failed to note it or inform me.” 

“What’s his address, I think I need to pay him a visit,” Jazz growled out, only half-joking. 

“Jazz,” Prowl admonished mildly. “It won’t change anything.”

Dropping his gaze to his lap, Jazz focused on the cube and its contents. “What do we do?” he asked quietly. 

Prowl didn’t answer for a long while, it got the point where Jazz wasn’t sure he was going to answer until he heard him, speaking softly, steadily with emotion Jazz couldn’t place. He was explaining the possible outcomes and the statistics of raising a sparkling in their line of work and the uncertainty of their meeting and how they didn’t really know each other that well. Jazz listened, his spark breaking as he realised that Prowl was rationalising having the sparkling reabsorbed. He started quoting facts about the safety of the procedure when Jazz snapped. 

“No!” 

Prowl stared at him in surprise. “No?” he prompted hesitantly. 

“Prowl having a sparkling isn’t about facts and figures and statistics,” Jazz started rubbing his forehelm. “It’s about what you feel, what you want and we did this, we made this… this life together. We did that. You know how rare sparkings are now?” he licked his lips, his spark pulsing hard in his chest. “What do you want, Prowl, really?” he pinned the mech with an insistent gaze, the question burning in the air. 

“I want…” Prowl stopped himself and fiddled with his cube, his face screwed up in thought. “I want... “ his voice caught and he cleared his intake just once before finally, finally meeting Jazz’s gaze, his optics bright and intense. “I want to keep it.” 

All the tension drained from Jazz’s body and he offline his optics. Onlining them again he gave Prowl a small smile and a nod as he drew the mech close to embrace him tightly. “Then we keep it,” he heard himself uttering into the mech’s audio. His spark pulsed harder when Prowl tightened his arms around him subtly and buried his face into the crook of his neck with a soft noise of assent. 

****

**Present Cycle**

Jazz onlineD his optics with a sigh and chewed on his lower lip. He had been terrified of what it meant when he told Prowl that he wanted to keep the sparkling too. The look of awe and elation had been obvious in Prowl’s optics even if the emotion hadn’t made it to his shy smile. Fear was normal, he had said. Jazz was glad of that because he had never been more scared of anything in his life. 

He was a creator, he was going to be a parent. A small smile danced across his lips as he reached for a datapad that Prowl had given him before he left. Switching it on, he gazed at the image capture of Prowl’s spark with a very distinct smaller orb beside it. “Hey there bitlet,” he murmured softly, a finger caressing the image lightly. “I’m going to meet you real soon, we’re going to be a family. I always wanted a family,” he admitted with a wistful smile. Sitting back in his seat, Jazz’s gaze was once again drawn to the vast wilderness of Cybertron outside his window and pondered how the chances of him and Prowl meeting in such a way were infinitesimal. A sliver of insecurity making itself heard in the back of his processor. “By Primus, I hope I can do right by you. Do right by you both.”


	7. You and Me and Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Jazz make it back to Prowl's side in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vorn - 83 solar cycles  
> Solar cycle - 1 cybertronian year (345 cycles/15 deca-cycles)  
> Cycle - 1 cybertronian day  
> Deca-cycle - 3 cybertronian weeks/23 cycles  
> Groon - an hour (approx 83 minutes)

**2 cycles after Jazz’s departure.**

Smokescreen busied himself in Prowl’s kitchen area, warming up some energon, the way he knew Prowl liked it. He hummed quietly to himself as he poured out the energon. Prowl had been quiet since Jazz had left and Smokescreen knew the drill. There was no getting Prowl to talk unless he wanted to talk. Instead, Smokescreen simply made himself available, making sure that Prowl knew he was there should he decide to talk about anything that was on his processor. 

He placed Prowl’s cube on the counter and sipped his own as he waited for Prowl to appear. He had been feeling excessively tired of late, Smokescreen knew that, he didn’t know whether it was due to the emotional strain Prowl had put himself through or the coming separation. “Well good cycle, sleeping beauty,” he grinned as Prowl appeared at his berth room door. His smile instantly faded when Prowl gripped the door frame tightly and stared at him with panicked urgency, his other hand clutching his chest. 

“It’s happening, oh Primus, it’s too soon,” Prowl gasped, staggering forward. 

Smokescreen moved and was by Prowl’s side in a flash. “We got to get you to a clinic, like now.” 

“You’ll get no argument from me,” came the strained response. 

Smokescreen chortled despite himself as he bundled Prowl out the door, calling the clinic ahead so they would be ready for them. “Frag, never thought I’d see the cycle,” he joked, ignoring the withering look he received from his brother. 

****

Jazz had arrived in Iacon late the previous cycle and had had little recharge. Now, on the way to see Prime for the first time in a vorn, he felt a swirl of unease in his tank. Optimus had always been a perceptive mech and he hated keeping things from him but he also knew the implications if he came clean about what had happened between him and Prowl in Praxus. It would throw the entire case against the terrorists under scrutiny. It would also place Prowl in a difficult position as no doubt mechs would believe he had gotten his new position due to favouritism and personal interests. He wouldn’t jeopardise both their careers like that. He knew how important Prowl’s job was to him and his sense of duty. He hesitated outside of the Prime’s and steeled himself for the briefing. He had sent his report ahead via comms so this was just routine, he tried telling himself that in an effort to calm his nerves but was unsuccessful. It didn’t help that his thoughts kept drifting to Prowl and the pending separation, he needed to get back. Venting a sigh, he rapped on the door and stepped inside the large office.

“Ah, Jazz, it is good to see you again,” Optimus greeted cordially. 

“You too, Prime. Did you get my report?”

“I did, it seems that you and Prowl struck up quite the rapport in Praxus.” 

“I yeah,” Jazz started,  _ play it cool mech, play it cool _ , “He was instrumental in bringing us a conviction, worked with me every step of the way.” 

Optimus nodded thoughtfully as he perused the data pad. “What are your thoughts on him coming to work here in tactics?” he then gestured to the seat opposite his own. “Jazz please sit, your fidgeting is driving me to distraction.”

Jazz grimaced a little, only realising then that he had been twitchy. He sat down, perching on the edge of his seat and leaning on the broad desk. “I think he’ll be an asset, he’s quick, like computer quick especially with stats. It’ll be a steep learning curve from Detective but he seemed to work well with his colleagues in Praxus. He does come across somewhat aloof when you first meet him but that’s just how he is, especially when he’s working. He’s dedicated to a fault, probably obsessively so at times.” 

Prime nodded as Jazz spoke and regarded his officer curiously. “You got to know him quite well then?” 

“Given the nature of my cover, most of our meets had to be in secret, he handled it in his stride.”

“That bodes well for him given that he will be working with you and your department quite closely.” 

Jazz could only incline his helm in a nod at that. He wasn’t sure Prowl would be okay with many of the unorthodox methods his department occasionally utilised but hoped that the mech wouldn’t be too by the book. He frowned a little as he thought, for surprisingly the first time, about the implications of them disagreeing on the job and then having to face each other at home. 

“Everything seems to be in order,” Prime was saying, bringing Jazz back to the present. “I see you’ve requested some leave.”

“I ah yeah, I was undercover for a while there and just feel like I need to be me for a while,” Jazz explained unnecessarily. His private comm pinged right at that moment and Jazz frowned when he saw it was from Smokescreen. The simple message just said “It’s time.”  _ oh frag.  _ He stood up quickly, despite himself receiving a surprised look from Prime. 

“You alright, Jazz?” 

Nodding quickly, Jazz stared back at Prime. “I just, edgy, you know it takes a while to get out of the processor of my cover,” he answered quickly. 

“I see,” Prime answered. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“Yep, I’m great, I’m good,” Jazz replied, forcing himself to stand still. 

“Leave is granted.”

“Thanks, Prime,” Jazz threw him a grin and then bolted out of the mech’s office, leaving Optimus staring after him, befuddled. Prime knew Jazz was eccentric but sometimes he worried for the mech’s sanity and made a note in his file not to give him any undercover work for a while. 

****

Jazz didn’t stop until he had reached the transport hub. He even used his position and rank in Prime’s government to insist upon a transport for one direct to Praxus like right that nanoklik and no he didn’t care how much it was going to cost fraggit! 

Finally, on a transport and accelerating out of Iacon less than a cycle after arriving, Jazz deflated in his seat as he stared blindly out of the viewing window. He was going to be a creator, he  _ was  _ a creator. His spark quickened its pulses and he had to intake more air into his cooling systems. Bending double, resting his arms on his legs, holding his helm in his slightly trembling hands he tried his utmost to calm himself down. In all of his experience as an ops agent and intelligence operative never had he felt such a grip of panic and utter terror. His view of the world did a complete flip and nothing felt like it made sense anymore. He was admittedly terrified of the life he was currently racing towards and he knew none of what he was currently feeling could even compare to what Prowl was probably feeling right at that moment. 

****

Prowl grabbed the doorframe of the clinic as they exited the transport and shook his helm. He turned sharply and tried to leave only to have Smokescreen grab him with both hands and gently turn him around. Prowl dug his feet in and refused to move forward. “I can’t do this, I don’t know what I was thinking, Smokescreen you can’t make me do this.” 

Smokescreen sympathised with the near panic in Prowl’s normally even tenor and still carefully pushed him towards the entrance. “You’re at the point of no return, little brother,” he replied softly. “Bitlet is coming whether you’re ready or not.” 

Prowl let out a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a cough. “Jazz isn’t here, I can’t do this by myself, Smokes’ I… I’m scared.”

Meeting Prowl’s wide optic’d overly bright gaze, Smokescreen cupped his face with both his hands and held him still. “You listen to me, you listen to me good. You are not alone in this, alright? Jazz or no Jazz, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?” 

Prowl’s ventilations stuttered and he opened his mouth a couple of times and closed it again before words would allow themselves to be formed. “You… promise?” 

Smokescreen’s spark practically melted at the small, fearful voice of his younger brother, not the logical dispassionate one he had come to expect. “Primus, Prowl, of course I do. I have your back, always,” he tugged him into a tight embrace and held on, giving him a slight squeeze. “Now come on, let’s go have that sparkling,” he grinned at Prowl who gave him a watery smile in return and nodded meekly, allowing Smokescreen to walk him into the clinic, his arm around him in support and comfort.

**** 

Jazz had taken to pacing the length of the transport as time seemed to be creeping away from him. He had pinged Smokescreen and Prowl but had received no response. He told himself that it was nothing to worry about, that they were simply preoccupied but other much more worrisome thoughts kept swirling around his processor and it was all he could do not to leap out of the speeding transport and race back to Praxus under his own steam. Rubbing his helm absently, he tried to still his movements but to no avail, without word from either Smokescreen nor Prowl he felt like he was going out of his mind. 

****

Prowl squirmed on the medical berth trying to clamp down on his rising panic as Doctor Iatric examined him regularly and kept him under observation. “Not yet,” she kept insisting, despite the twinges and spasms in his chest. Then she disappeared again as the nurses started getting the room ready for the looming separation. 

“Prowl, you got to calm down,” Smokescreen insisted for what felt like the 100th time. “Your stress can’t be good for the sparkling.” 

That merely brought a scowl to Prowl’s face and he stilled, “Do you think he’s coming?” he asked quietly after a long few moments of quiet. 

“Yes,” Smokescreen replied firmly. “He’ll be here,” he added, taking hold of Prowl’s clenched fist and holding it until he relaxed a little and held back. “Or I’ll kill him,” he muttered quietly. 

****

Jazz had given up, ordered the transport to stop when he was three-quarters of the way to Praxus, gotten out and gunned it towards the glittering city on the horizon. At top speed, he would double the transport’s time given that it had to stick to regulation speed and didn’t understand Jazz’s urgency when he had tried to order it to speed up. Nothing was going to stop him from getting back in time, not the transport, not Prime, not Primus, not even Unicron’s legions could stop him now. 

****

Prowl cried out, his frame arching off the berth, his hand squeezing Smokescreen’s so tightly the blue mech winced. The spark fluctuations were becoming more prominent and frequent now. Dr Iatric confirmed it was almost time and she was busy preparing the spark extractor beside the berth. 

“Ok, Prowl, we’re going to have to immobilise you while the extraction takes place. Lack of movement is crucial for successful extraction.”

Worrying his lower lip in his denta, his face a mask of fear and pain, Prowl simply gave her a sharp nod. He was immensely grateful for her efficient methods and for Smokescreen’s comfort as he rubbed his shoulder with his free hand. The berth hummed as it was activated and Prowl felt everything in his body go numb. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. His intakes hitched with mild panic at the unnaturalness of it but Smokescreen appeared in his line of sight and gave him a reassuring smile. 

His face was replaced by the extractor being placed over the top of Prowl’s chest and his chest plating parting under Dr Iatric’s instruction. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling as he felt an intense tugging sensation deep within his spark. It built up until heat and pain was all he could feel. It felt like his spark was simultaneously exploding and collapsing in on itself and the blinding white hot pain was like nothing he had ever experienced. He heard himself let out a keen which crescendoed to a scream before it all vanished with a snap and recoil of energy that fed back through his systems all at once, initiating an overload. He gasped and shuddered as much as he was able, his systems red lining one by one, sending him into blissful unconsciousness.

****

Jazz had broken several traffic regulations on the way to the hospital Smokescreen had pinged to him. He could out run any of the city’s enforcers however and was now racing through the hospital after nearly pulling his weapon on a clerk who wouldn’t tell him where Detective Prowl was being warded. Skidding to a halt outside the ward, he burst through the doors, drawing the attention of Smokescreen and the Doctor who stared at him with bemusement. 

“So glad you could make it, you’re just in time,” she smiled, as though having a mech turn up, scuffed finish and covered in Primus knows what after racing across the silica tundra and through a city at top speed through the rush of the late cycle traffic.

“He’s okay?” Jazz gasped, his vents open as wide as possible as he tried to suck in air to cool his engine down. 

Smokescreen grinned and nodded. “He’s out, the extraction took it out of him.” 

Jazz made his way to Prowl’s berth, stumbling half way, steadying himself against Smokescreen as he peered down at Prowl’s deceptively peaceful face. “How was he?” he whispered.

Smokescreen put a steadying hand on his shoulder, “Amazing,” he replied softly. “They’re embedding the sparkling now,” he jerked his helm towards the other side of the room where Dr Iatric was working with another medic. He graciously stepped aside to let Jazz nearer to Prowl and smiled when the mech leant over his brother and kissed the centre of his chevron. “He’ll come around soon.”

Jazz nodded feeling somewhat dazed as he took Smokescreen’s seat gratefully and took a hold of Prowl’s limp hand. A short while later, he felt a gentle shake on his shoulder and he onlined his optics, not remembering when he had offlined them. He looked up at Dr Iatric standing beside him holding a blanket and smiling down at him. 

“Would you like to hold him?” 

Jazz’s intakes caught and he nodded mutely, getting to his feet. Carefully she handed him the tiny bundle in her arms and Jazz could do little else than stare at the tiny face and bright blue optics staring up at him, seemingly too big for the little helm they were in. He felt a well of emotion bubble up from his spark and overflow, erupting in a strangled sob that escaped from his parted lips. “Hey there, little one,” he managed to utter. “I’m so happy to meet you.” 

Smokescreen stood just to Jazz’s right and couldn’t stop smiling, his own hand trembling when he reached up to lightly stroke the nubby red chevron crowning the sparkling’s helm. 

“Bluestreak…” 

Both mechs turned to Prowl when his hoarse voice whispered the name reverently. Jazz’s face broke into a wide bright smile at him and he let out a weak laugh. “Bluestreak, it’s perfect.” Perching on the berth as Smokescreen helped Prowl to sit up, he turned so he could see his sparkling. 

“Hello, I know you,” Prowl spoke softly, his hand resting over the sparkling’s chest. For what felt like eternity Prowl gazed at the sparkling and the sparkling in Jazz’s arms gazed back.

Their optics finally meeting, Jazz felt he could lose himself in the moment forever when Prowl’s face finally broke into a bright smile that made Jazz’s spark quicken. It felt like the early cycle’s star rise as warmth spread through him. Leaning over, he pressed a tender kiss to Prowl’s mouth, his spark swelling with the joy he felt at that moment. 

It broke all too soon and they pressed their forehelms together, Prowl’s hand cupping Jazz’s cheek, his thumb caressing over his lips. “You made it, you’re here,” he murmured with unspoken relief. 

“Will always be,” Jazz breathed, “Right where I belong.”

****

**Epilogue**

**Two cycles later**

**“** Are you two paramours going to quit making optics at each other and help me take the luggage down?” Smokescreen yelled over his shoulder as he marched out of Prowl’s apartment carrying a chest to the waiting transport. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jazz shouted back. “Might get distracted,” he threw a playful grin at Prowl who was gently rocking Bluestreak in his arms.

“Jazz, you shouldn’t tease him, he has been of immense help,” Prowl’s mild admonishment was quickly silenced by a kiss. 

“He’s just so easy to wind up, it’s like he didn’t realise you had mech needs or something,” he mouthed over Prowl’s lips before crooning a soft song at his sparkling who gurgled at him and tried to grab his visor. 

“Jazz, go help,” Prowl commanded, his tone belied by the amused smile on his face. 

Giving a mock salute, Jazz chuckled and picked up the last box. “Yes Commander Prowl, Sir,” he added, deliberately using Prowl’s new title and commission as part of Prime’s staff. 

Rolling his optics at Jazz’s retreating back, Prowl simply shook his helm and picked up a carrier with all of Bluestreak’s things, his other hand supporting the sparkling in the special carry harness strapped to his chest. Turning, he looked over his bare apartment one more time and vented a wistful sigh. He didn’t realise how long he had been standing there until he felt Jazz come up behind him and curl his arms around his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. 

“Lots of memories, huh?” 

Prowl nodded and swallowed, taking a deep intake of air. “I’ll miss it. I’ll never forget it.”

“I hope not.”

Hearing the smile in Jazz’s voice, Prowl turned his helm slightly to nuzzle him and kiss a helm horn.

“We’ll make plenty of new memories in the new place,” Jazz assured. “Better ones,” he added. 

“Oh Jazz,” Prowl shifted and let him take the carrier from his hand, gladly replacing it with Jazz’s free hand. “Having you drop into my life is one of the best memories I have, it’s hard to say goodbye.”

Jazz kissed him for that and grinned. “So don’t,” he smiled. “Just think of it as a new chapter,” he squeezed Prowl’s hand. “Not an ending but a story. Turn the page, Prowl, story’s just getting to the good part.” 

Prowl could only smile at that, amused, knowing how Jazz liked to tease his penchant for old style books as opposed to electronic datapads and let Jazz lead him out of his apartment and into his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you kindly for reading and enjoying and commenting. This is the end of this arc. I hope to write a sequel in time, based in Iacon but my brain is currently hyper fixated on the Due South fandom and the fic I am writing for that.
> 
> Still, thank you readers for being so engaging and encouraging me to keep coming back and sharing my stories. All I have ever wanted is to write so if it has brought you any small amount of happiness then I am content.


End file.
